Savages
by LolaStark
Summary: Robb didn't know if there was more than his duty that bound him to his fate before knowing Fallon Magnar. She was a ward of Winterfell due to her father's crimes and torn her from her own duty to her homeland in Skagos. She and Robb learn how love can turn the honorable into savages of the heart. But when they are both thrust into war in Westeros, will their love prevail? RobbxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Savages by LolaStark**

**Author's Note:** Thank you for checking out my first story. This is the first chapter and I'm excited to continue on. Please feel free to review at the end if it strikes your fancy. Also many thanks to my best friend CosmicxLove15 who inspired me to write this story. She's read a lot of it and said she loved it…so I hope you do too.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any characters or plotlines from George R. R. Martin's _A Song of Ice and Fire_. I only seek to write purely out of my own entertainment…and Cass's.

**Chapter One: **

**[Fallon Magnar]**

Skies above didn't open up that day. They hung low in the sky over the hills and through the forest that sung songs of the Northern wind. Ravens dared not fly in such solemn weather and instead waited, perched high above the clouds and in the bare branches of tallest trees. Only the short sounds of their occasional chatter could be heard alongside the sounds of the horses hooves shuffling through the mud at a steady pace.

The winds of winter were upon them. There was a dreariness to the North, she'd known it all her life. But this was the mainland. She was not used to being so landlocked, so far from the easy access to the Bay of Seals. Her cloak was pulled around her shoulders but it hung loosely as she let the breeze pass through. Her long dark hair was blowing wildly in the wind that tinted her cheeks a pale shade of pink.

Hardly anyone in her caravan had looked at her in the last hour. The ones who did only gave her sideways glances of forbearing and pity. These were her father's men, men that now served her eldest brother Broden. The Lord's seat at Kingshouse was once occupied by her father. Now as she was sat upon her mare, she wondered after the man who would most likely be wearing a large black cloak as he joined scouting parties beyond the wall.

And as punishment for her father's crimes, she was torn from her homeland and sent to live as a ward in a stranger's home. She wouldn't show fear. These men who had watched her grow from a babe to the young woman she was now. A daughter of Skagos did not show fear. There were far worse things to fear than living on the mainland. Savage tribes ran wild on the island. It took the discipline her father had instilled in his warriors to keep the land safe.

Aedan who rode now on her right, was his father's most trusted man. He was younger than most of her father's council but had proven himself several times over in the battlefield against their enemies and the tribal savages. She had always thought him handsome, his hair auburn and his face covered in a short stubble that made her grin slightly. He would never have a large beard like his father. His father had a full red beard that made him look like an orange bear. She had called him 'Beardy' since she was a young girl. Their families had been so close that she thought she might marry Aedan when she came of age.

But it was Elsbeth that her father had wed to Aedan as a reward for his bravery. She was careful to hide her girlish heartbreak. Both of her sisters were married off now, and she was being sent off to live with the Warden of the North. She would never marry well now, her name tarnished by the misdeeds of her father. She would pay the price for his sins.

Aedan's golden-colored eyes were glancing in her direction but she didn't dare look into his eyes in case he might see the fear in them. She didn't know what to expect honestly. Perhaps the old lord wouldn't be as harsh as she'd heard. He had spared her father from the sword down upon his neck after all.

Instead of looking to Aedan for comfort he wasn't free to give, she glanced to her left where Enat was riding upright with her hair hidden beneath a dark green cloth. Her hair was very bright like her brother's. In fact she couldn't think of a single person in Aeden's family who didn't have fiery hair. She often envied the girl who was some years older. She wasn't a great beauty, but certainly more beautiful than and of the sisters of House Magnar.

Fallon was the youngest daughter and second youngest child of House Magnar. Only Corran was younger, still a young boy at only thirteen years passed his first name day. She didn't want to think of his face when she left him at the docs of Skagos, waving after her mournfully. Broden was back at Kingshouse, their family's seat on the island off the coast of mainland Westeros. Rowan had insisted he would escort his youngest sister, even after Broden had ordered he stay. Rowen was only a year her senior and therefore the closest to her own age of seventeen.

She could see his dark hair up at the front of the caravan. He was a born leader, like Aedan which is how the two of them were such good friends on the battlefield and off. She secretly wished he'd look back at her at least once but she had yet to see his face since they departed the Dreadfort.

To be honest it was the Dreadfort that had instilled a fear deep inside of her as they rode. House Bolton was overlord to House Magnar. She had never met a Bolton and gods willing she'd never meet another. They were a savage lot, much more savage than the tribesmen who ran wild on Skagos. At the Dreadfort she could hardly sleep as she tried to tune out the screams of men being tortured in the dungeons. Was all the North really so barbaric? she'd thought. Certainly there must be some place that wasn't plagued by unruliness.

Far in the distance she could see the sun hanging low in the sky as it fell into evening. The sun was of course hidden by a large patch of clouds that sunk down towards a structure in the distance. She looked to Enat who nodded slowly, indicating exactly what she had been thinking.

It was Winterfell.

**[Theon Greyjoy]**

Winterfell was abuzz with anticipation. It had been several months since they were informed that they would be housing not only one Skagg for the duration of who knew when, but a whole slew of them. Many couldn't decide if they were disgusted or excited. It wasn't often that people of the mainland interacted with those from the isle of Skagos. It was close enough to be considered part of The North, but Northerners knew the savages that roamed the steep cliffs and low valleys were not of the same lot as their people.

For Theon, the idea was rather fitting. After his tenth name day he had become a ward of Eddard Stark, sent to Winterfell as a hostage for his father's war crimes and rebellion. Nine years later he found that the Stark family treated him well and often more like a son that Ned's own bastard, Jon Snow.

This new hostage, however would be something knew for the people of Winterfell to gawk at. No one knew if Drystan Magnar had sent his youngest son or youngest daughter. There was no official law stating it had to be a male. Traditionally it was the youngest child, no matter the sex. Theon was the youngest of his siblings, his sister Asha the only surviving child of their father. He often wondered what he'd done to make his father so ashamed that he'd choose a daughter over his heir.

Theon stood out front with the family. The event wasn't a formal one, only a courtesy of Northern tradition that they receive Lord Stark's new ward into Winterfell. Lady Stark had prepared a humble feast for the Skaggs who would stay just the night until morning broke. Then they'd be ushered back out the way they came and sent off on their way.

One of the guards turned from his position on the gate tower and looked down to Lord Stark, waving his hand. They had arrived, he thought. He knew the signal and watched as several other guards reached towards the crank and pulled open the gate. It took nearly six men to raise the gate high above the under the arch.

The riders came in, one by one until all eight of them stood before the Warden of the North with solemn looks upon their faces. Theon looked to Robb who stood next to his mother, Sansa who stood next to Robb. One day long ago he found himself wishing he could stand at Robb's side, the brother he'd known nearly half of his life.

"Lord Stark," Theon heard and looked up to see the young man that had dismounted his horse first. He had dark hair, but eyes the color of of spring as he stepped forward, bowing curtly to Ned who waved him to his feet. "I am Rowan Magnar, second son an' fourth-born to the noble house of Magnar."

Theon furrowed his brow as he boy continued talking, noticing how well spoken he seemed to be and not at all as rough around the edges as he would have hoped. Was this going to be his new housemate? He would do well, Theon thought. He was handsome enough to attract only positive attention from the ladies, but the scowl upon his face was enough to show his disdain for the Lord that would be his master.

"Young Lord Magnar, welcome to Winterfell," Ned replied and Theon's eyes scoured the rest of the figures on horseback. He took note of the other five men present, most were older than the young Magnar, but there were a few young faces among them. They were accompanied by two women, both looked quite young from this distance. He was always intrigued by the sight of a pretty woman. Both seemed fair enough. The first had her hair covered by cloth, concealing most of what he loved about a woman. The second shared the same dark hair as the man standing before Ned Stark. She sat up straight on her mare, looking more bored than anything as she stared off at the sun falling over the trees.

Rowan walked over to the girl with the dark hair and stood next to her as she dismounted. Theon nearly laughed at the cad's unchivalrous behavior as he just stood and watched as she dismounted the beast on her own. She didn't take much time, she was rather quick on the contrary. She wore a simple gown, something plain made out of wool. She placed her hands in front of her, looking up at the other girl on the horse once before glancing back at the family.

"And may I present my sister, Lady Fallon Magnar," the boy said and Theon could see the resemblance as they stepped closer. She seemed uncomfortable as she tried her hand at curtsey and failed at a graceful execution. Instead she wobbled once, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink and then stepped back at her brother's side.

"Lady Fallon," Ned replied, taking her hand in his and pressing her small hand to his lips. "We welcome you to our home."

"I am grateful to your hospitality," she replied, her voice carrying over the crowd and Theon was surprised at her confidence. Surely Drystan Magnar wouldn't send his daughter, who was very much a woman, to be locked away as a hostage. Surely.

But it wasn't the first time he'd been wrong, though he didn't care to admit it. He found out at the feast that Fallon would be taking her younger brother's place by choice as ward to Winterfell. It was a strange thing to witness, a Skagg sitting among the family. He certainly would have never predicted it. He could hear the whispers from men and women alike as all eyes were on the filthy travelers who were intruding on their meal. Only Ned Stark seemed at ease in front of Fallon and Rowan, while the others seemed to shift in their seats anxiously.

He was seated at the table closest to the door, with Snow for company. It wasn't a secret that Theon and Jon didn't get along. While Jon was a family member by blood, Theon knew he was an outsider, especially to the Lady Catelyn. Jon may have been Lord Stark's son, but he was also a bastard. No amount of Stark blood could wipe away that horrible title. Even he and Fallon had a better status as hostages than Jon Snow the bastard.

And to Theon, he wouldn't have it any other way.

**[Robb Stark]**

There was chill in the air as morning rose at Winterfell. The sun had yet to rise but slowly peaked out above the horizon, teasing the watchers of the night into delaying their journey still moments longer. The travelers from Skagos had wasted no time in preparing for their journey home. He had perhaps though they might push off their journey for a day or two due to the predicted storms that approached but Rowan insisted that they leave at first light.

Robb was standing in the large courtyard outside. He had always been an early riser and this morning had been no different. His father had left before dawn to set out towards the town for a meeting with the villagers. He never broke commitments even if it meant passing on certain responsibilities to Robb. He was the heir to Winterfell after all. Robb didn't mind it, in fact he enjoyed watching the Skagosi men saddling their horses expertly.

They each carried rather large swords on their belts and he wondered what types of fighters they were. From what little he gleaned from conversing with Rowan Magnar and his friend Aedan, they were a serious bunch. They seem to still hold contempt with the Starks as a whole due to their father's banishment to The Wall.

The son of Drystan was standing nearest to him, his horse only ten paces in front. It was then that Robb noticed quite a change in demeanor, in the entirety of the group as they approached Rowan. Of course, once they stepped closer Robb realized it wasn't Rowan they were after, it was Fallon. Her cloak was slipped over her shoulders but it didn't hide her nightgown that peaked out from beneath the thin fur-lined garment. She was holding Rowan's hands in her own as she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Robb had heard many tales of Skagosi women, none of them told of how he would feel when he looked upon this one, tears falling down her cheeks. She tried to hide them from her brother but he only wiped them away with his fingers and pushed the corners of her lips upward into a forced smiled. She hugged each of the remaining five riders and stopped at one who placed his lips on her forehead.

It was an intimate gesture, one Robb had only seen between a man and a wife, or perhaps two lovers. The man lingered several moments before handing her back to Rowan who engulfed her in a hug that lifted her from the ground. Her arms were wrapped around his neck until she was placed firmly upon the ground and he kissed her mouth in a brotherly manner before mounting his steed. She placed her hand delicately on the horses snout, stroking the black hair before placing her hand at her side.

"Deirfiur mo chroi," he said looking down at her and this time the corners of her lips turned up into a faint smile, one that was more sad than a smile might infer. Robb didn't recognize the words, but he knew the coarseness of the sound was a familiar one. He had only heard the Old Tongue a few times in his life, but the sound was always distinguishable.

"Dearthair mo anam," she replied in a whisper and Robb could hear her voice crack as she spoke her words in reply. He didn't have to understand the language to know that this was their goodbye. Perhaps there was more to it, some deeper meaning to the Old Tongue words, but regardless, goodbye it would be.

It was only once they were through the gates and out of sight that she turned away from the whispers of the soldiers who watched her closely, inspecting her reaction and undoubtedly belittling her with their smirks. He could have sworn he heard one of them mutter 'Skagg," under their breath. He'd heard the term all his life, but was forbidden from using it. It was a nasty term for people of Skagos, his mother had explained. Never again had he used it even though he never understood. Now hearing it from the rough voice of one of the guards, he finally heard what his mother meant when she said 'nasty.'

She walked slowly in his direction, not looking at him once as she came closer and closer until their paths intersected. He stopped her then, his hand lightly around her elbow. It was a gentle touch, but one might have thought Robb had struck her the way she flinched. She stood there, unmoving, unyielding to his look of concern. Her eyes were focused on the walls behind him and nothing else.

"You are safe here," he whispered to her and watched her eyes stagger for only a moment before they sought out the ground. "No one will hurt you." Her eyes traveled up from the ground and connected with his. It was the first time he'd seen her look at him and therefore the first time he'd seen that her eyes were the same as her brother's. No, he thought, not quite the same. Her eyes were a pale shade of green, one that was fierce yet more subtle than the daggers she was glaring at him now.

"I can protect myself," was her harsh reply as she jerked her arm from his grasp.

And then she was gone.

Robb had never had a negative interaction with a woman that he wasn't related to by blood. In fact, most women were very kind to the heir of Winterfell. He was accustomed to kindness having been raised by a kind woman like his mother all his life. He wasn't expecting this woman who was loving and gentle towards her family, to be so harsh in his direction.

It caused him to think of the plans that were to come to fruition in the upcoming few weeks. Soon there would be another young woman walking the halls of Winterfell. Only this one wouldn't be his family's hostage. This new woman would be his wife.

He had heard many things about Kathryn of Ashford, supposedly she was the perfect bride for a highborn house. Robb didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. His parents had an arranged marriage and they were relatively happy.

How bad could it be?

**[Davina Ashford]**

"Surely you're joking?!" she said, looking outside the carriage window off towards the large fortress over the hill. Her mother looked at her with a sour expression at Kathryn's outburst.

"Compose yourself Kathryn," Davina hissed, chiding her daughter who had been groaning for most of their journey about how uncomfortable this new climate was to her. Davina assuredly agreed. All of her daughters were wrapped tightly in fur-lined cloaks that had been gifts from Lord Stark and his wife after the betrothal.

To say that she had been furious that Kipling had pledged her eldest daughter's hand to Eddard Stark's son would have been an understatement. She had three other suitable daughters, Dawn for example would have made a perfect bride to the Northern Lord's son. Of course Dawn would have been just as miserable surrounded by savages of the North and she didn't blame her.

This place was a wasteland.

However, Kipling was Lord of Ashford, therefore he held great power in the Reach and even near to King's Landing. It had been their very own king, His Grace Robert Baratheon, who had arranged the marriage. He wanted two of his most loyal houses to combine and secure highborn heirs to help rule his kingdom long after he was gone.

Davina didn't see why House Ashford had to be part of it. Surely a Tyrell or a Lannister would be a much better match for a House as regarded to the King as House Stark. Alas, here they were, stopped upon a small hill as they looked upon Winterfell in the distance. She looked back at Kathryn who now had tears in her eyes.

"What have I done to deserve this torture?" she asked through her tears and Davina had half a mind to smack those tears right off of her pretty little face. But as the carriage crawled to a stop, she heard Kipling's laughter approaching and instead handed her daughter a handkerchief to preserve her soft features from being ruined by staining them instead with tears.

"Let us reserve our judgment my dear Kathryn until we've at least stepped through the front gates," she said as Kathryn wiped her eyes.

"I don't need to step through the gates to know that this place must be one of the Seven Hells septa warned me about.

"A lady doesn't whine," she said harshly. "This is your duty and you will perform such with a smile on those rosy cheeks of your or Seven help me."

Kathryn flipped her hair, the color of honey on a summer day and wiped a final tear from her eye before sitting up straight. Davina knew her daughter would do as she was told. She had been trained from birth to be the perfect Southern Lady.

She only hoped the North wouldn't bring out the worst in her.

Seven help the poor bastard who Kathryn Ashford would have wrapped around her finger from now...until eternity.

Author's Note: Hi there! First chapter down. I have a lot of explaining to do, I know but please be patient and you'll find out everything (I hope) that you want to know. If you have questions, feel free to ask me up in the review box. Otherwise, if you liked it, please let me know with a little review on your way out. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Savages**

**By: LolaStark**

**A/N: **I first wanted to thank all those who read and reviewed my first chapter! It was so great to see good feedback. I wanted to also note that the 'guest' reviewer who left the angry comment was a little strange to read. I didn't understand why they wrote that on my story, especially since neither of his/her complaints had even been addressed in the story yet. I want to think that perhaps they were mistaken on the story. Anyways, enjoy!**  
**

**Chapter Two**

**[Fallon Magnar]**

The Great Hall was full of chatter. The ladies were giggling excitedly as the stared up at the table where the Ashford family sat and dined with the Starks. Each of them fawned after the beauty of all three daughters who had long summer hair and full pink lips. They were each more beautiful than the next. Fallon wasn't quite sure who they were until Enat came back with news that they were the daughters of Kipling Ashford, the eldest of which was Lord Robb's betrothed.

Her name was Kathryn, a very Southern name in Fallon's opinion. Not many people in the North donned such elegant names that sounded foreign in comparison. Most of House Magnar had names of Ancestors that dated back to the First Men, her own name even, was the name borrowed from a strong female warrior who had helped secure Skagos from the invaders who tried to overtake it.

But only Enat would understand those stories. No one else had much interest for them. In fact, hardly anyone at Witnerfell showed any interest in her whatsoever. Aside from the children who were constantly asking her about Skagosi customs, she could have very well been invisible to the rest, the way she walked the halls without a single glance in her direction. Part of her wanted to thank them. Fallon preferred to keep a low profile among these strangers who whispered derisive names when she passed by or entered a room. It was hard enough being a prisoner in a strange place, but not even being able to reprimand them for their ignorance.

She was once a lady of House Magnar, able to do and say as she pleased, should it please her. While nobility was somewhat different on Skagos, still she managed to understand when someone was speaking out of place. Her current circumstances left her as a low member of the Stark household and therefore she had little rights to speak out over injustice and cruelty of servants.

Theon could sympathize, perhaps if he had a heart to do so. He was once from a high born family, an heir to a Lordship before he was sent to Winterfell, now he was barely anybody, not even a Ser. Once referred to as 'Lady Magnar' was now reduced to simply 'Fallon.' She shouldn't complain, she knew that. Hardly anyone at home had referred to her as Lady Magnar or Lady Fallon unless they were foreign. But it was the principal of the matter. It made her feel as if she were worthless.

"Milady," she heard from her side and she wanted to smile. It was as if Enat had read her thoughts.

"You aren't to call me that anymore Enat, I told you," she reminded the woman who had known her since childhood and always referred to her as 'milady.'

"Oh hell, I'm always forgetting," she replied under her breath and Fallon nodded.

"We'll get used to the changes. It won't be long now," she told her friend who nodded once before returning to her previous though.

"I was only going to say, that I received a letter from Aedan ," she said, pulling the parchment from her skirts and handing it to Fallon who now donned a real smile for the first time in weeks. News from home was a comforting thought, the last letter they'd received was nearly a month ago when they'd arrived back in Skagos. She opened it quickly, knowing Enat would have already read it as it was not sent to Fallon. Fallon hadn't received any letters for herself.

"He says things are well, that is good news. I was worried Broden would cause unneeded tension among the other Lords. Now that father is beyond The Wall, I imagine Broden, and Rowan as well, will have much convincing to do," she said as she looked up but saw that Enat was not glancing at her in return but rather up towards the front of the hall. Fallon furrowed her brow.

"Milady," Enat whispered but Fallon's eyes had already caught on to the distraction. They were focused up front on the main table where the Starks and their guests were sitting and several of them were talking and glancing back at her.

"Why do you think they are gawking over?" Fallon asked and Enat took the letter and placed it back in the folds of her skirts before shrugging.

"Can't say Milady, but I think they're gawking at _you_," she replied and Fallon looked back up to catch the eyes of Ned Stark who looked clearly upset. His wife was smiling sweetly as she talked with Lord Ashford's wife. Robb's eyes found hers as well but as soon as she glanced in his direction, he looked back down at his plate, pretending to be interested in what was left of his food.

Seconds later, all of the Ashfords were watching her curiously and she felt a wave of hotness burn in her cheeks. She tried not to notice as she took a sip of the wine that was by her side but when she looked back the eyes had not moved and several of them seemed to be arguing a point. It was Ned who she looked to once more, this time to see him waving her up. Fallon placed the wine goblet down on the table and looked behind her. Surely he'd meant someone else.

"No I think he is meaning you, Milady," Enat mumbled, nudging her with her boney elbow and Fallon took one more sip before standing.

It was on her way up towards the front that she hoped her lips were not stained too red from the wine as she knew Lord Stark frowned upon too much wine intake. She straightened out the lovely dress that had been gifted to her and pulled her plaited hair over her shoulder. The braid was long, resting just above her waist as her mother's always had.

It seemed like an eternity before she reached the front of the large room. When she did, however, make it to Lord Stark's side, he stood and placed his hand on her back as he motioned to the large group at the table.

"Lord Ashford, Lady Ashford, this is Fallon, daughter of House Magnar," he said slowly and carefully. She could tell he was avoiding saying her father's name as he was no longer the Lord of Kingshouse. Fallon watched as eyes traveled over her small frame and she momentarily shared a glance with Kathryn. It was a short one however. By the time Fallon looked at the girl she was looking away with boredom.

"Ned tells us that you are sister to the new Lord of Kingshouse. There aren't many Skaggs that make it to the mainland, let alone all the way to Winterfell," he said and she cringed at the derogatory term he used so nonchalantly as if he'd just said something of a compliment. She glanced at Lord Stark who gave her an understanding look as he nodded, signaling that she was free to speak. Free to speak, never had she been prohibited before in her life until now.

"Yes, My Lord Ashford," she said with as a refined accent as she could muster. She could tell the lot of the Ashfords were surprised that she could speak at all. "My eldest brother Broden is now Lord of Kingshouse. He and my brother Rowan have seen that many of the Skagosi tribesmen have become less of a threat. Our land is harsh, but certainly breeds men of courage and strength."

"Yes I imagine all the Ska_gosi_ men must be quite brutish." It was Kathryn who interrupted her with a grin on her pink lips, sipping out of her goblet gracefully before continuing. "One might wonder how a girl your size could manage."

"Kathryn!" her mother chided under her breath. Fallon could see the challenge in the girl's eyes but she refused to be humiliated.

"Yes well Skagosi _women_ are bred strong as well. We know how to handle our men," she replied and there were several coughs from the table as laughs were stifled, hidden under the façade of coughs. She saw that Robb was one of them who looked most amused by her comment and had she not felt the fury still evident in her veins from his betrothed's comment, she might have smiled to thank him.

"You must excuse her," Lady Catelyn was saying as she looked at Fallon with hard eyes. "One of the servants gave her a bit too much to drink this evening. It has loosened her tongue. I assure you it won't happen again, will it Fallon?" Fallon looked to the woman who was reprimanding her so publicly. And for what? She'd simply defended herself from humiliation at Kathryn's pleasure. But ultimately, this was not her home. She was not even a guest here. She was a hostage, a prisoner and prisoners did as they were told. She knew that.

"Begging your pardon, but my Lady Stark is right. I apologize for the crudeness of my words. I don't know what came over me." She looked to Lord Stark apologetically as she picked up her skirts. "If you'll excuse me, I think it is time for me to retire."

"Shall I escort you My…" she heard and turned to see Robb rising from the table as he would have been trained to do upon a Lady's departure. He paused his words tough, seeing everyone looking at him curiously. "Fallon," he finished, trying to correct what mistake had already been made. Fallon shook her head modestly.

"Oh no thank you My Lord, my maid will be suitable enough company I assure you. I wouldn't presume to pull you from your lovely guests," she told him and didn't give him a second to protest as she descended the steps and didn't look back as she walked. She would have preferred to run, to get as far away from the watchful gazes burning into her back. Enat was at her side quickly, without a word from Fallon and they made their way out of the Hall and out into the night air.

They walked for several moments before Enat dared speak.

"I know you're unhappy," she said in a low whisper. "I wasn't exactly planning on spending my days so far from home either."

"I didn't force you to come," Fallon replied heatedly and Enat grabbed her hand so they came to a stop.

"I came for _you_, Fallon. I came here because you needed someone and because…" she started but then paused as a servant passed by, looking at them out of the corner of his eye before continuing on his way.

"Because why?" Fallon asked curiously and Enat looked down at her feet. Only silence passed between the two of them, their breaths visible in the night air. But neither shivered from the cold. Both were used to much worse.

"Because," she started again. "Aedan asked me to." Fallon looked at her friend in confusion. She had clearly heard Enat and yet she was sure she had heard wrong.

"Why would he concern himself with me? He's got plenty of other things to worry over," she said off-handedly and Enat rolled her eyes.

"Are you so blind that you have never seen my brother's affection for you?" she asked and Fallon shook her head.

"Enat I must ask you not to continue with whatever foolishness you think you know. Aedan and my sister are married now, they are happy."

"Fallon," she whispered.

"No, please don't say anything else," Fallon said quickly, turning from her friend in attempt to hide the heartbreak apparent in her eyes. "I will see you in the morning." Fallon didn't often dismiss Enat so rudely. She found it demeaning to talk to her servants as if they were slaves. Enat was a friend, she always had been. But right now she wanted to be alone and as her emotions clouded her judgment, so did her mouth as she sent Enat off on her way.

It was several moments before she heard the woman's footsteps turn and then die away into the distance. Once they were gone , she felt it was safe to breathe. She knew there was only one place she would gain the peace she longed for and her feet were already leading her towards it. It was a short walk, brisk in the cold night air. It helped numb her thoughts until she came to the base of the weirwood. She could hardly make out the tragic face of the tree god but she wasted no time in bowing to her knees on the cold, wet ground.

She didn't know what to pray for or if they were even listening to her prayers. They must of had thousands of aching souls crying out to them at this very moment. Surely her prayers could wait.

For a while she just stared upon the face until her eyes could make out all the features. Skagosi men and women still prayed to the old gods. When she'd heard she'd be travelling to Winterfell, it had been one of her fears that they wouldn't still practice the old customs. She was very relieved to see that they did. She didn't need another reason to be an outcast.

"Do you think they're actually up there listening?" a voice asked and Fallon turned her head to see Jon Snow standing a few paces away with his arms crossed over his chest. Had it been almost anyone else she probably would have ignored them. But it was Jon Snow, more of an outcast than even she was and he had Stark blood.

"I'd like to think I haven't been completely abandoned," she said with a small smile and he returned it with one of his own.

"I don't think they're listening when I speak," he said, half joking.

"The gods do not punish bastards, Snow," she said seriously. "They're at no fault of their own. You are not at fault because your father chose to be with another woman."

"Then I imagine the gods wouldn't abandon a ward like yourself either," he added and she shrugged. "It isn't your fault you had to come here for your father's crimes."

"It's a little more complicated than that," she whispered, looking away as the wind rushing over her face.

"Bran told me you have a younger brother," Jon asked and she closed her eyes to picture Corran's light brown curls and his light green eyes. "Why would he send his youngest daughter when you're not youngest of the house?"

"I'd rather my brother grow up with a chance at a good life, rather than spend his life as a ward to some family he doesn't know," she said and he stepped closer.

"We aren't all bad you know. You won't be miserable forever."

"You speak well for a family that ostracized you," she retorted.

"Not always," he tried to argue but she could see it was a subject he wrestled with on his own.

"They should be proud to have another son," she told him. "In Skagos, even a bastard son is recognized by his Lord Father's noble house. The more sons, the more opportunities to bring honor to one's house. That's the way we see it."

"And how many of your brothers are bastards?" he asked and she could tell she struck a nerve even bringing it up.

"None," she told him as she stood. "My father had too many of us to take care of as it was when my mother died."

"And if he did would you welcome them so readily into your family?" She looked at him in the eyes and noticed a figure behind his right shoulder. She didn't know how long he was standing there, or how much he'd heard. But he was close enough that she could make out his ocean blue eyes watching her carefully.

"Yes," she said confidently, speaking a truth she had never had to consider. "I would never be ashamed to have a bastard for a brother." With that she made her leave, not taking her eyes away from Robb Starks until she passed him and walked into the castle.

She found this family very strange, she decided. They had a large, happy family with noble blood so regarded by the King that they could do anything they wanted. And yet, they refused to recognize the son who was so clearly a Stark, even more than some of the others.

It was sad.

And it was just another reason she found herself longing for home, more than ever.

* * *

**[Jon Snow]**

There was something unsettled in the air.

The afternoon was cool, a chilling wind brushing through the trees inside the walls of Winterfell's courtyard. The morning had been spent, the lessons of life and death and responsibility had been learned. He was still listening to Bran asking Robb questions about White Walkers and whether or not the boy their father had executed was a liar.

It was difficult to explain such things to a child. He remembered being the one asking the questions as if it were just yesterday when their father had taken him and Robb out to the stone and swung the sword over a different man's neck. Now he viewed that responsibility much differently. He looked at Robb and knew _he'd_ have to be the one to do it one day. Not Jon, but Robb, the firstborn...the Stark.

Somewhere in the halls Lady Stark was whispering about a letter they'd received from King's Landing. She hadn't told them what it was about, but whatever it was, it had caused a few arguments between her and her husband. Several arguments that Jon did his best to stay out of earshot from after receiving several odd looks in his direction from the woman who refused to be his mother.

"Enough of this grim subject now," Robb was saying and Jon looked over to see him standing. "Let's see how well you've been practicing." He was talking to Bran, who often sought out lessons on sword fighting and archery. Earlier in the morning they had practiced the bow, watching as Arya schooled her younger brother easily. Arya had always been a quick learner.

Jon spun around on his place there on the bench and watched as Robb pulled out a wooden sword and handed one to Bran and then took one for his own. The two started out slow, circling one another for several seconds before Bran finally jumped in and started. Jon furrowed his brow as he watched his younger brother exhibit moves he'd never seen. Only weeks earlier he had sparred with Bran himself and he'd had a difficult time not pinning him to the ground within the first few seconds. Now he seemed more competent and patient, and certainly more brazen than they'd ever taught him to be.

"Very well done Bran," Jon said and Bran smiled proudly. "Where did you learn to do that move there?" he asked and Bran looked up towards the balcony where Fallon was sitting elegantly, the wind blowing her dark hair about as she seemed to be reading quietly.

"Certainly you don't mean her?" he asked and Bran looked away. Both Jon and Rob shared a knowing look before they took one more glance up at the girl and then back to their brother.

"You mean to say Fallon taught you how to do that thing with the arm?" Robb asked and Bran looked up again. Both Robb and Jon glanced to Fallon who was now looking down at Bran with a smile and gave him a curt nod.

"Yes," Bran said then lowered his voice to a whisper. "I saw her out here one morning with Arya. She said she used to train with her brothers."

"A lady with a sword," Robb laughed. "Now doesn't that sound like a beautiful sight?" Jon agreed and both laughed as they glanced to Fallon who had returned her gaze back to the pages in her lap.

Several times that morning he'd caught Robb's glance staring up at that balcony, often times finding it without its current occupant. He didn't blame his brother, she certainly was an intriguing woman.

Ever since the night of the Ashford's departure feast, he'd seen a slight change in the two of them. It had been nearly two weeks and never once did he see them together. But it was as if every glance held a thousand words and he wondered what had happen to cause such a tension.

Of course it was Jon who spent most of his dinners with Fallon and Enat, as Robb was expected to sit with Kathryn who was always finding something to complain about when the opportunity arose. She and Fallon got on the worst. He didn't see what was so wrong with Fallon that caused Kathryn to raise such hell during the long days.

It was strange to say the least. Only getting stranger by the day. But he just assumed it had something to do with Kathryn's lack of familial connections after their departure. Now she was alone, in a strange place and coping with it was somewhat of a difficult task for the girl of sixteen. She would often bring that point up, at which point Robb or Jon would look at Fallon who was in the exact same position, only no one doted after her because of it.

Bran had once again lost, despite his new techniques and Robb was helping the boy off the ground when they all heard a playful bark of one of the direwolf pups they'd discovered earlier that morning. It was Robb's direwolf, they discovered when rounding the corner to see Fallon and Arya playing with the pup and giggling.

Grey Wind, Robb had named him. Jon thought it was a funny name for a pup, but couldn't really laugh, when he still had yet to name his own. Grey was currently tugging at Fallon's dress, the latter of the two seemed careless and just laughed as she half-heartedly tugged back. Robb ran over, laughing as well as he pulled the pup from the ground and tried to get the cloth from his teeth. It was to no avail as Grey was persistently clamping down on the fabric, tugging Fallon closer and closer until she was only inches away from Robb and the pup.

Jon watched with an amused smile as the two refused to make eye contact, pulling at the dress. They couldn't stifle their laughs and although the tension was evident, Jon could tell the two of them had let go of some of the hostility. Their fingers touched and one would pull away just as the other would do the same. Jon rolled his eyes as he stepped forward, not bothering to hide his amused smirk. He pulled his knife from his belt and cut the fabric so that Grey wouldn't have to release it and Fallon could drop her skirts.

"What's going on?" a voice asked that caused all five of them to jump at the sudden intrusion and the mood visibly changed when they all saw Kathryn walking towards them, Catelyn and Sansa nearby. For a long moment no one said anything and she simply looked at all of them for the answer. It was Fallon who began petting the pup who fidgeted uncomfortably in Robb's arms.

"Arya and I were just playing with Grey Wind, he got a little too attached to my dress," Fallon explained calmly and Kathryn's eyes lingered on the proximity of Robb and Fallon for several moments before looking up with a smile that looked exceedingly forced.

"Robb," she said then. "Would you escort me on a walk? I need the fresh air and could use the company." Robb seemed to hesitate only for a moment before taking Grey and handing him gently over to Fallon. He then offered his arm to Kathryn, who took it eagerly as they wandered off towards the godswood. Several eyes lingered on the pair as they rounded the corner and then on Catelyn who had been avoiding them all day.

"While you're all here, I should tell you that Lord Stark and I received a letter from the King this afternoon. It seems," she said. "...that we will be receiving the royal party in a month's time."

"All of them?" Fallon asked, intrigued.

"All but the King's brothers," she replied with a sense of weariness. "The King's desires alone will cost us a fortune."

"We'll all do our best to help," Fallon said. "Won't we?" she asked, looking around and everyone, including Jon, nodded. Catelyn looked once at Jon and gave him a curt nod of thanks in return.

"Don't be long, supper will be ready soon," she told them, leaving them all standing there as she'd found them, Sansa in tow holding her own direwolf in hand.

Jon knew the coming weeks would be chaotic. The king may have been his father's best friend, but he was still the King of all Seven Kingdoms. Jon had heard many stories of the man who had done battle time after time with his father at his side, just as he had during their youth at the Eyrie.

They all went straight in, leaving Jon outside to wait for Robb to return from his outing. He watched as the sun fell low in the sky and radiant sunset across the clouds in the sky. It would be a while before his brother would return. And all the while he would contemplate his own importance, echoing Fallon's words in his mind.

_I would never be ashamed to have a bastard for a brother_.

He wondered if the roles were reversed between he and his brothers, if he could feel the same.

* * *

**A/N: **I know I'm starting off a bit slow, I just wanted to get everyone used to where the story is. It _is_ starting alongside the beginning of book1/season1. Hopefully you like it, let me know if you have any comments or questions. I'm already editing chapter 3 so it should be up soon. xoLola


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**[Kathryn Ashford]**

Another day.

She felt as though she was counting days in a prison cell as they passed slowly. Her days were full of the most boring activities. She often excused herself to bed directly after their meals in the evenings.

Her father truly must have hated her to send her to this wasteland.

The Stark name might have been a noble one, but this family didn't know what it even meant to be a noble house. Sure Lord Stark was a noble sort of fellow, always asking after her health and if she was happy here in the North. Kathryn wasn't daft. She wasn't about to tell him what a miserable place this was, even if it was the truth. She was a lady and ladies always put on a facade of happiness, no matter the situation.

When she'd first arrived, it had been difficult, she'd admit that. She had a hard time not spouting off about the chill in the air or the dampness of her room. These people didn't know how to cook food, or dress, or even draw a bath properly in her opinion. But as the days went on, she knew that there was only one way to secure her happiness.

To keep her chin up until she became Lady of Winterfell. Then there would be some changes.

Even now as the servants were busy running around, making last minute adjustments as the King and his caravan would be arriving later this morning. She could think of a hundred things that would be an improvement to the decor, to the menu, to the way the family was dressed in what looked like rags.

Kathryn refused to be part of it all. If her opinions weren't to be heard, then she wasn't going to lift a finger. She had been stuck up in her room all morning having her ladies work on her dresses for the King's visit. She didn't care if the Starks wanted to be humble. This was the king and for him, she'd look her absolute best.

Now she was sitting in the Great Keep watching as tables were set and floors were swept. She would have been outside had it not been for Lord Stark's instructions that they all stay indoors until they caravan was spotted. She she sat in the fur-lined chair, her back straight as she watched the commotion.

She nearly groaned when she saw Fallon helping Robb moving the chairs. She may not have been a lady anymore, the Skagg, but certainly she knew women weren't meant to move furniture? Her feelings towards the savage were very clear from the moment they'd met. Even as she shook hands with the family, she didn't dare touch Fallon's grimy fingers, not knowing what dirt was still stuck in those disgusting fingernails she'd have.

The girl may have been a year older in age, but Kathryn knew that her training wouldn't have been nearly as extensive as one in the South. Skagos wasn't exactly known for it's refinery or breeding of ladies. She'd heard from Sansa that both of Fallon's elder sisters had been married off, one to House Hunter in the Vale. It wasn't that impressive, honestly. No one wanted to live in the Vale. That left Fallon here at Winterfell, most likely to end up an old crone with a name as tarnished as hers.

So in all honesty, the girl wasn't a threat. She'd seen the way Robb looked at her, the way they spent entirely too much time together for her liking. But none of that matter. Robb didn't have a choice in this matter. Kathryn would be Robb's wife, and Kathryn would be the Lady of Winterfell. Fallon would be nothing more than a brief memory of his adolescence.

"Milady Kathryn," she heard, forcing her to return to the reality that was this miserable day. She looked to her left where one of the servants was standing with a letter in his hand.

"For me?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Oh, no beggin' yer pardon madam, but I was hoping you could tell me where Lady Fallon is? This letter were addressed to her," he told her and she rolled her eyes at his atrocious use of the common tongue, not to mention his incorrect titling. She held her hand out.

"I will make sure she gets it presently," she said, sitting up as the man bowed and handed her the parchment. She flipped it through her fingers several times as she waited for the girl to return to the hall, looking at the script until something caught her eye.

It had come from Skagos, naturally, the handwriting was atrocious, the parchment not of very good quality. She'd heard several times that Fallon never received any letters over the last several months. Only her maid, Enat, was brought letters leaving Fallon with only secondhand word from some Skagg Kathryn didn't know the name of. But this was clearly addressed to Fallon. _Lady Fallon Magnar_ it said and she nearly laughed at the title.

Fallon was no more a lady than Arya was and everyone knew it. They would all get a great show during the King's visit when they realize just how barbaric the girl really was. It was only a matter of time. But the letter could prove to be useful.

Kathryn's mother always taught her, keep your enemies close enough that they'll never expect it when you plot their downfall. Fallon just might have a use for her yet.

* * *

**[Robb Stark]**

"That great brute of yours didn't do a very fine job of cleaning up your face Stark," Fallon said with a grin as lathered his face with a cream that was soothing on the small cut on his lower chin. The shave wasn't a very close one, he'd realize and he knew his mother wouldn't be happy with the state of his facial hair. Which was why he was sitting in Fallon's rooms with her blade very close to his throat. "If you'd have come to me in the first place, you'd have a face as smooth as a babe's bum right about now."

"How many times are you going to make me say _you were right_?" he asked her, his arms crossed over his chest as she leaned over him, her hand under his chin, steadying his head.

"As many times until I'm satisfied I suppose," she said, running the blade over his skin slowly and carefully. Her dark hair hung low, hitting his hands as she leaned over and he could smell the scent Enat used to fill Fallon's baths. It was very familiar to him over the last few months. The smell of the winter roses that grew in the godswood. He had watched as Fallon would pick the flowers herself from the base of the weirwood.

He wasn't sure what to say as he sat there, Fallon working diligently on his shave. He liked spending time with her, he decided. It had taken her a while to adjust at first, he could see how difficult it was feeling so far from home and trapped.

Ever since the night in the godswood, as she whispered her thoughts to Jon, he'd been very keen on her thoughts. He still remembered her words in his mind, never sure of a good moment to bring them up again. But as they sat there in silence, he wondered if now was as good a time as any.

"I'm not ashamed of my brother you know," he whispered, careful not to sound as offended as he was when he'd first heard her say the words with her eyes on him. He felt the blade stop for only a moment before she continued. She'd heard him but didn't say anything in return for several moments until she finished his left side.

"I shouldn't have said that," she said finally, sounding as if she too had been wishing for a way to bring up the words she'd spoken that night. She sounded relieved that he'd been the one to do it, though when he glanced upwards he noticed the embarrassment in her eyes.

"You had every right to," Robb started.

"I had _no_ right to, that's the point," she said. "I had barely been with your family a month when I made assumptions about your life. I'm your father's ward. It's not my business to say how you treat your family, nor to refute your customs."

"I think of him as a brother, I've never treated him differently," Robb told her and as she finished she placed the blade in the water pail and took a towel in her hands. She walked around to face him, as he stood, and for the first time since he'd arrived in her rooms, their eyes met.

"I know that now," she whispered, placing the towel on his face and wiping away the excess soap. She was concentrating, so he wasn't sure if she noticed his watchful gaze, how he took in her features curiously. She was much smaller than him, reaching only to his shoulder, and he enjoyed watching her frustration when she had to strain her neck to look up at him. Like now as she finished his face and looked up at his eyes and rolled her own eyes at his expression. "You're fit for a king now," she said with a grin.

"I doubt your Skagosi men care to shave, even for the King," he replied, pulling his tunic back on and tying the strings until they were easily knotted.

"Skagosi men are known for their beards," she said with pride, a smile on her face as she talked of her home. "They only shave them off until they marry. It's usually a symbol of their manhood."

"And here I am, My Lady, letting you emasculate me for the world to see." At this she laughed.

"You ought not let your mother hear you call me that," she said, handing him his vest. She'd taken it to mend the collar and when handing it back, he noticed it looked as good as the first day he'd received it.

"I don't see the harm," he replied. "You are a Lady of House Magnar. Every bit as noble as me or my family."

"I don't mind simply being called 'Fallon.' It's nice to see the lads squirm as they try to remember my name," she joked, laying out her dress for dinner. It was a shade of green that would assuredly match her eyes.

"If you weren't so good with a sword, I'm sure you'd need more than Enat to guard you."

"Don't judge too quickly Stark," she laughed. "She's handy with a sword as well."

"Are all the girls from Skagos so well trained?" he asked and she nodded.

"We have all those brutish men to handle," it was a joke that was often relived throughout their days, only when his mother and Kathryn weren't around of course. Even his father had to do his best not to laugh when the joke was made.

"I'll teach you to use a bow, then you'll be a lethal threat," he told her and she seemed to beam at the offer.

"I've actually already started training," she said, pulling out a bow from under her bed. "Theon's been showing me a few things here and there. We don't get much time since you're always stealing him away for a hunt."

"Perhaps I'll have more reason to steal him away now," he said and a pretty shade of pink appeared on her cheeks.

"You had better get on your way, you know. Before your Kathryn finds you in my chambers," she said, her smile falling somewhat and he felt some of the tension between them return in her words. He furrowed his brow, wanting to to say something else but she was already opening up her door and he had no excuse now to stay.

She barely waited for him to walk out before she closed the door slowly behind her and he was left to the silence of the corridors. Robb looked at her door for a long while before making his way to his own rooms to change.

Robb knew that he came on a bit forward with Fallon. He'd tried to control his natural desire to flirt since the moment he'd met her really. But there was nothing he could do about his natural connection with her. He found her company comforting. She wasn't like most girls, she didn't seek out his attention. Rather, she was always there when he sought out hers, like a friend.

He liked that. He liked that she wasn't intimidated by Kathryn's attempts to embarrass her or belittle her. Instead they would just fall into easy conversation where they would laugh and talk about things of their past. Sometimes he would ask her questions about her homeland and she would discredit all the stories the Starks had heard about Skagos as children.

Those were his favorite stories, of Fallon as a girl, traveling the mountains and prairies with her brothers as they hunted for boars. Her stories were hypnotizing, especially to the children. Often times his mother would send him out to drag them all in for bed, much passed the late hour in which they were supposed to be sound asleep. But other times he'd be outside as well, sitting around a fire as she spoke told old stories of the first men, and he'd look up to see his mother listening intently, his father closeby as well.

He could tell she missed her family. But Robb couldn't help but be glad she was here.

* * *

**[Ned Stark]**

It had been three days time since the arrival of Robert and his family. Three days of feasts and games that made Robert laugh with excitement. For a man born in the Stormlands, Robert Baratheon certainly thrived in the North. Tomorrow they would spend a full day in the Wolfswood, hunting the delights of the Northern bounty. Ned would bring Robb and Jon, Theon as well who was so talented with a bow.

But tonight, they'd feast. Catelyn had already complained to no end that this trip would cost them a fortune. He knew it would, he would just have to sacrifice more to make up for this visit. No one said no to Robert. Even now as he paraded through the crowds, kissing various women in front of his wife's very eyes. No one would say a word. Perhaps Ned might comment about it later, when his friend was deep in his wine goblet.

Cersei sat with Catelyn and the two chatted with Sansa as if no one noticed the King's behavior. Arya was running about, chasing after Bran who was to be caught at any moment. And Rickon sat next to Fallon who, by the looks of her exaggerated hand movements, was telling another story of Skagos.

He often wondered why he took so well to the girl. He had never liked Drystan much, nor was he particularly fond of the past the Starks held with rebel Skagosi warriors. But there was something about the way Drystan Magnar had begged he take Fallon as his ward. He hadn't asked like a father protecting his sons, protecting his lineage like most men did. Instead, he'd begged for his daughter's life. He'd never once seen Drystan on his knees, for any man. But for his daughter, he did. The more time he spent with the girl, the more he came to realize how special she must have been. She was a great deal like Arya in some aspects which was why the two girls got on so well.

But it was his son, Robb he was worried about. He remembered what it was like to be young, to chase after women with a gleam in his eye. He wrote it off as innocent flirting. Fallon was a beautiful girl, and smart as a whip. He'd have thought his son blind had he not taken notice in her. His only worry was what would stem of it. For now it was fine, they were friends and Fallon seemed very aware of the boundaries set in place, not only as Ned's ward, but also due to Robb's betrothal.

Kathryn wasn't the most pleasant of girls. But she was suitable. Ned had no choice but to join the two. It wouldn't be long now, a few months to gather the families, Kipling had said. They'd originally planned to take Kathryn home with them before the wedding, but Lord Ashford had insisted that she stay to learn her new home. Ned didn't have a strong sense of friendship for the man, but Robert had asked him to do it.

And no one said no to the King.

It was why he was now the Hand of the King, why Sansa was now to be Joffrey's bride. No one said no to Robert and with that came a stream of consequence. He just hoped his children wouldn't have to be the ones to suffer for it.

"Ned!" he heard from the crowd of feasters and looked down to see Robert, two large-breasted women hanging off his arm as he waved. "I've been here three days my friend, and not once did you tell me you have a Skagg for a ward?" he asked with a hearty laugh. Some of the noise fell silent while others seemed to grow louder, perhaps to distract from the slur that had poured from the King's lips.

"She's Drystan Magnar's daughter, hardly a Skagosi savage," Ned replied, holding his composure as he approached Robert who took a long sip of ale.

"Magnar not a savage? Clearly you've forgotten how much that bastard owes you. Now, where is the hag!?" he asked searching around with his belly pulsing as he laughed. Ned glanced to

Fallon who was already very attuned to the conversation taking place about her from across the room. Ned reluctantly waved her over, not wishing to embarrass the girl further as he had mistakenly done with the Ashfords.

She walked to his side and Robert hollered for more ale and glanced around until another cup was in his hand. It took him several minutes to notice the girl at Ned's side and when he did, he started laughing.

"What's this?" he asked through his laughter. "Certainly you don't expect me to believe this beautiful maiden is a Skagg whore?" Ned saw Fallon visibly tense and he placed his hand on her shoulder to help calm her.

"Her name is Fallon, Drystan's fifth child," Ned countered and the King's laughter died down until he was simply staring at the girl before him.

"Who was your mother girl," he asked and Fallon looked up to Ned who nodded.

"Moira Waterman, Your Grace," she said confidently, looking Robert in the eye which seemed to unnerve the stag as he glanced back at his cup.

"She must have been a great beauty to allow Drystan's lot to be blessed with such amiable looks," he told her, reaching out to her and placing his hand under Fallon's chin. If she was more uncomfortable than Ned felt, then she certainly hid it well. The rest of the hall had already returned to it's merriment, all but Robert. "How old are you?"

"I will celebrate my eighteenth nameday in a few months time, Your Grace."

"Seven Hells Ned!" he proclaimed. "You've condemned the poor girl to the life of a virgin for all time. It's a sin to waste such a pretty face, if you ask me," he said laughing. "I know a great deal of Lords who would kill to conquer a Skagg bride with a face like hers." It was unsettling to say the least and he looked down at Fallon who swallowed hard. "Do you speak the Old Tongue as well?" She nodded.

"I've vowed to marry her off to a good house once her father's debts are paid," Ned replied. "I consider her well being as I would consider my daughters'."

"You should feel quite lucky Skagg. Ned Stark is the Warden of the North. You being his ward could only benefit well for you," Robert told her.

"Yes, Your Grace. My Lord Stark is a most gracious host," she said with a forced grin. At this Robert laughed.

"I'm sure he is," was his cryptic response as he turned away and Ned nudged Fallon along. She didn't waste time in fleeing out of the hall doors and he pretended not to notice as Robb and Jon chased after her. Robert looked after the girl for only a moment before turning back to his whores, leaving Ned standing alone in the crowd pondering just how he had become friends with this man in the first place.

* * *

**[Fallon Magnar]**

She felt beyond insulted.

In fact, when she tried desperately to search for the right word to describe how disgusting she felt, there wasn't one good enough that came to mind. She had observed the king for three days since his arrival and had immediately written him off as a simple drunk, with no interests other than bedding women and drinking ale.

Turns out she had been nearly spot on when she met him herself, much to her surprise. It was Lord Stark who had insisted they keep quiet about her presence there and the idea hadn't hurt her thoughts any. In fact, all she wanted to do was be completely unnoticed by the lot of them who looked down on even Lord Stark. Only Robert seemed genuinely pleased to be here while the others were often complaining about their stay.

After her encounter she had ran out into the courtyards in the back of the keep, seeing many of the servants having a celebration of their own around the fire. The ones who weren't busy working to wait hand and foot on the royals were singing around the campfire with more merriment than she'd seen in days.

Robb had followed her, she wasn't surprised but she refused to acknowledge his presence as she stared, entranced by the fire as it danced up into the sky. Another set of footsteps were belonging to Jon Snow, who passed her slowly as he walked over to a man in a black cloak, a Night's Watchmen. It was their uncle, she'd heard. Benjen Stark, her master's younger brother. She moved her eyes from the fire to Jon and Benjen's conversation and wondered to herself what they were discussing.

"Are you alright?" she heard Robb ask from several feet away and she glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Do I seem alright? I am so trying not to look so obvious," she said, her sardonic tone with too much bite. She noticed too late though because by the time she realized how rude she sounded, the words had already been said.

"If it calms your mind, my father says the King is always like that," Robb said and Fallon looked around to be sure no one was listening in on Robb's words. She closed the gap between them until they were a mere arm's width apart. He was still wearing that expression on his face from three days ago and she wasn't sure how to make it go away, even if she did not what it was.

"The only thing that will calm me is when the caravan leaves for King's Landing in two days time," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. It was the first night she'd felt the cold breeze bite through her thick dress and she cursed herself for forgetting a cloak.

"My father is leaving with them, and my sisters," Robb said and Fallon's eyes shot back to his.

"But why?"

"He's to be Hand of the King. And Sansa's to marry Joffrey. I'm sure Arya's going against her will."

"Hand of the King?" Fallon asked in disbelief. "How can he be both Lord of Winterfell and Hand?"

"The responsibility will be left to me. I'm plenty old enough to see the Lords, to handle the estate. It's what I've been raised for essentially," Robb told her and she shook her head.

"What will happen to _me_ then? Will I go with them?"

"Do you want to go?" he asked, looking down at her with those eyes that lit up as the fire grew behind her.

"I don't want to leave the North," she said. It was the truth. She had no desire to leave the comfort of the North for King's Landing. Not only would she be an unwelcomed guest at the King's table, but she would be laughed at, stoned perhaps by people who were prejudiced against those from Skagos. "I must speak with Lord Stark," she said quickly, stepping in the direction she had come from but he stopped her with his hand lightly on her arm.

"Now won't be the time," Robb said. "Perhaps tomorrow, after the hunt. He's usually more susceptible to listen when he's had a good hunt."

She watched Robb for several moments. He was tall, like a giant towering over her it seemed. But he wasn't using it to intimidate her. Instead, she found his closeness oddly comforting. The look in his eyes calming the rage that was causing her fists to clench. It made her wonder why he was out here in the first place.

"I heard what he said to you," he whispered and Fallon moved her eyes from his gaze, ashamed of the words the King had spoken. "We won't let you have that life Fallon. Don't let him force you into believing that lie."

"I can't go there Stark," she said softly. "I have finally found myself belonging here, I can see my future here and it is no longer grim as I thought it might be. If I can't return to Skagos, then I must make this place my home."

"There are many who would be very happy to hear you say that," he replied, and she could see his breath in the cold air, more frequent as each moment passed.

"Would they help make it so I could stay?" she asked, knowing by they, what she really meant was him.

"Yes," he replied simply. "They will."

They stood together for a long while in the darkness, watching the fire without words passing between them. She felt Robb's proximity from the warmth radiating off of his hand that was so near hers. She didn't know how long it was that they stood there but she felt her stomach leap after his hand accidentally graze hers when he moved out of the way for one of the dancing couples. It was some time before Robb walked her up to her rooms and she retired early for bed.

It wasn't long before Enat joined her as well, smiling from ear to ear as she recounted her story of the nights events. Enat had been one of the dancing couples by the fire. She'd always loved to dance. So had Fallon growing up. She knew all the Northern dances by heart thanks to Enat who would make Fallon her dance partner for practicing.

But Fallon wasn't listening as she sat in the hot bath, letting the steam climb around her as the chatter was drowned out by her own thoughts. The water was hot against her skin and she hoped it would scald away whatever lingering feelings existed underneath her left fingertips. She stayed like that for a while before she felt Enat start brushing her hair lightly, still going on about someone with grey eyes like clouds overtop the Skagosi Mountains.

Fallon's mind was lost.

It was still dark the next morning, much too early to rise whens he heard the sound of horses outside her window. A familiar laugh filled her ears.

And she desperately tried to ignore the tingle in her fingers.

* * *

**A/N**: Hey there! Another chapter done and both in one day. I thought the last one might have been a little too boring for you so I figured I'd release this one a bit early I hope you liked it! if so, let me know what you thought! Please? Thanks for reading everyone! xoLola


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

[Catelyn Stark]

They'd been arguing for nearly an hour, she realized as she stood in the corner, her arms crossed across her chest and she watched her son and her husband talking heatedly. She'd been expecting this sort of reaction from Robb. In fact, she was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. She and Ned had already discussed the possibility of Robb approaching them about her, but there was nothing that could be done at this point.

"She doesn't want to go, why is it so hard for you to see that?" Robb asked and to Catelyn, it was a valid question.

The moment Fallon had stepped foot into Winterfell, Catelyn knew there'd be an issue. She may have been from Skagos, but that didn't discredit the fact that she was beautiful. She'd been raised to be a lady, perhaps not as well as Kathryn or even herself, but a lady nonetheless. Catelyn couldn't fathom having all of that stripped away.

It was the equivalent of emasculation for a woman of noble birth. But Fallon took it in stride and held a composure that was most impressive for someone who was so ostracized by most. But it wasn't difficult for the people of Winterfell to overlook her heritage once they realized she wasn't some mountain savage.

"It's not for you to decide, Robb," Ned replied. "It's not even for her to decide. I made the decision based on what was best for her."

"She'll probably never see her home again. She's finally gotten used to Winterfell and now you want to uproot her against her will? What do you think they'll say about her in King's Landing. When King Robert parades her around as your Skagosi hostage?"

"She won't be paraded around..."

"Won't she? You saw the way he looked at her father," Robb argued and Catelyn looked to her husband. She could see the defeat in his eyes, but for whatever reason, he refused to back down on this. Ned looked to Catelyn. She could tell he wanted to do the right thing and that the right thing would be to leave Fallon here in Winterfell. But something stopped him.

"Fetch her will you?" he asked softly and Catelyn nodded as she walked towards the door to find Fallon pacing the corridor outside the room where she'd been asked to wait.

"Come in," Catelyn whispered and Fallon straightened her dress as she approached the door slowly.

Catelyn watched as she walked in, without glancing at all in Robb's direction, her eyes only on Ned as she stood before him. Ned looked to his son and although no words were exchanged, Robb reluctantly walked out and closed the door behind him.

"I suppose you heard all of that?" he asked and Fallon nodded.

"It was quite difficult not to My Lord," she replied and Ned smiled.

"Fallon, I don't want you to think I'm forcing you to go, that is not my intention."

"Begging your pardon My Lord but...what _is_ your intention in bringing me to King's Landing?" Fallon replied and Catelyn smiled at the girl's boldness. Her husband had a soft spot for strong-willed women. Catelyn was living proof of that statement.

"I don't think I need to elaborate, Fallon, when I say I want to protect you from what future lies for you here." When Fallon didn't question him, it was apparent that she did. Catelyn too knew Ned's reasoning in this aspect. "My son is very, passionate as of late. I have never before heard him speak to me in the manner he has displayed today. But I respect him for that. He's standing up for what he believes is right."

"But you think his beliefs are false ones," Fallon added and Ned shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Not false, but misguided. I wish more than anything for my family's happiness. I don't like to disappoint them," he said, looking to Catelyn for a moment. "But the fact remains, leaving you here would only hurt the both of you."

"My Lord, if I may?" Fallon asked and he nodded. "I came here believing my life was over, that I would never be happy another day in my life so long as I was away from my home. But you and your family made me see a much different future for myself."

"We had hoped you'd come around," Ned told her and she smiled.

"Lord Robb is part of that future and yes I understand duty and honor and responsibility, which is why I would never want to destroy that for either of you." She paused, looking to Catelyn. "Lady Stark, I have learned so much here and could learn so much more from you than I could in King's Landing. Winterfell was once not your home, but you made it so. I also want to make it my home."

"If I were to leave you here, I would be condemning you to a life of disappointment."

"I understand your reservations. He's your son," Fallon said, looking him in the eye.

"I've seen how he looks at you. I fear that the more time he spends with you will only cause him pain when the time comes for him to do his duty." Catelyn could see that it was hard for Ned to explain this to her, to someone he was beginning to care for. But Fallon did not seem offended nor upset by his admission.

"He will do his duty My Lord. He wants to please you, to become the man you've been grooming him to be. I can assure you, if I stay, Lord Robb will do that duty. He will marry Kathryn and he will become Lord of Winterfell in your stead."

"But Fallon," Catelyn interrupted. "How can you assure such a thing. Robb will come to care for you, if he doesn't already."

"Becuase My Lady," she said with a small smile. "It is not the first time I've had to convince a man that duty is more important than love. Not that this is about love, or perhaps it is or one day might be, but if you let me stay I will not let it become so."

"I don't understand," Ned said. Fallon sighed heavily as she toyed with the end of her braid. Catelyn watched as she unravelled it anxiously as she tried to speak.

"It was just over a year ago, when a man asked for my hand in marriage," she told them and Catelyn furrowed her brow in confusion. "I had always thought we'd marry, he and I. It was natural, the two of us. I told him I would, as long as my father approved. You see, even though I am the youngest daughter of House Magnar, it was still not common to marry below my station and my father was very protective of his daughters."

"As would any father be in his position," Catelyn assured.

"One day, a rebel tribe of the Dark Mountains came down and battled my father. Twelve clans of tribesmen were part of the rebellion and my father and his men fought them for a fortnight. If it weren't for my father's man, Aedan, he would have been dead from the leader of the Black Mountain clan. To honor his bravery, my father gave him my sister Eslbeth's hand in marriage. Aedan was the the same man who had before asked me for mine. He wanted to refuse you see, tell my father that it was me he wanted. But to reject an offer from a Skagosi Noble is an insult beyond words. My father would have never agreed to marry me to him instead. I had to convince Aedan, convince him that marrying my sister was his duty." Catelyn listened to the words in disbelief. The poor child, ripped from love so young.

"How did you convince him?" Ned asked curiously and Fallon sighed.

"I told him," she started quietly. "I told him I did not love him."

Both Ned and Catelyn did not reply. They simply took in her words, watching her expression as she spoke and realized what both of them had failed to see before. The girl was still in love. She tried so desperately to hide it but it was there.

"My Lord, if you will it I will go with you to King's Landing. But if you will me to stay, I promise you I will make my presence here one that will benefit all. I just beg that you do not punish Robb for what has not yet and_ will not_ happen." She looked at both Ned and Catelyn, waiting for their decision.

Catelyn looked to her husband, and he looked at her. And after several moments, Catelyn nodded to him.

Fallon would stay.

**[Fallon]**

She had counted over two hundred leaves before her eyes fell heavy and she succumbed to the darkness behind her lids. The wind was blowing cool wind over her face as she lie there under the weirwood, listening to the sounds of the godswood, waiting for words of wisdom to sink into her mind.

Of course all she really had was silence, aside from leaves blowing and ravens cawing. It made it easy for sleep to take over and lock her inside a limbo of sorts between the land of slumber and reality. She felt aware of her surroundings though at the same time felt the dreamlike haze dancing through every breath.

A branch cracked.

She sat up suddenly, gasping for air as she looked around her, only to find Theon walking over towards her, an amused grin on his face. It was better than the grin he saved for all the other girls, one that was uncomfortable to witness to say the least.

"Easy there slumber maiden, I've just come to collect you," Theon laughed with his hands up in mock surrender. His bow was strapped over his back along with his arrows and that was all it took to realize he was going out for a hunt.

"Who's order?" she asked him as she took the hand he offered to help her stand and he laughed at her appearance. She brushed leaves off of her dress and out of her hair before smacking him over the head in annoyance. He returned her slap with a look of annoyance but he seemed to take the hint.

"Lady Stark," he replied. "Says it's time for lessons. Which means all the ladies...and you of course, are meant to be locked up in the tower all day embroidering your pretty drapes and things. Try not to prick yourself." She rolled her eyes as she walked passed him.

"Yes and do try not to fall on one of your arrows," she spat over her shoulder and continued onwards towards the castle.

She was barely in the courtyard before she heard a loud yelp that sounded like one of the direwolves. She spun around to see the yellow-haired prince kick it with his boot. Furious, she ran over, picking up her skirts as she ran and lifted ghost up into her arms.

"Leave him alone!" she shouted, holding the pup in her arms who had nearly trippled in size from the day he was brought home. Joffrey looked at her in surprised, perhaps that she dare yell or reprimand him for anything. It was out of turn, surely. She had no privilege to speak to someone so high born in such a manner. But it didn't excuse his behavior and prince or peasant, she'd let him hear it.

"You dare speak to me that way?" he asked quietly and she looked around to see that only a few of the servants had passed by, one had stopped his carrying of water pales to watch the pair curiously.

"You had no right to do that," she told him angrily.

"And why not? It only belongs to Stark's bastard. And I'm Your Prince. It is within my rights to do whatever I want," Joffrey shouted and she shook her head in disgust.

"You beat a poor helpless animal and expect me to bow down to your title? I've seen the way you treat people. It's despicable. What kind of king will you be if you have to beat a pup into submission!?" she argued.

She didn't have time flinch as she felt the sting of Joffrey's slap, his ring's cutting into her skin as her head spun away. Her heart was racing as she pulled her hand up to her face and felt the sting of a cut on her bottom lip. When she looked at her fingers she saw the tint of red blood staining them and she looked up at him in disbelief.

"You speak to me like that again, and it will be more than your face I'll tarnish," he told her. She didn't cower, didn't back down as he smirked at her with his mischievous eyes. Instead, she let her hands fall to her side, setting ghost down on the ground and she lifted her chin up so her eyes met his.

"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered. "There is nothing you can do that I haven't endured a thousand times worse."

For a moment there was silence. She could tell she'd caught Joffrey off guard, that he would have expected her to run in the opposite direction. But she refused to let him see fear. She wasn't scared of this child. She wasn't scared of a man who liked to inflict pain. She'd seen many days and many men who were equally as rotten as this boy in front of her.

"Perhaps you do not scare easily, _Skagg_, however I daresay My Lady Sansa would be terrified if I were to start, let's say, slapping her about," he said and Fallon's eyes widened. "Yes, you see, she is to be my wife, therefore she will be my property, my toy. I love to play with my toys, however I see fit." The thought was frightening, more frightening to her than taking her own punishment for boldness. But Sansa was faint-hearted.

"She's just a girl, she'll do you know wrongs."

"I could care less if she's the best fuck in Westeros," he spat causing Fallon to cringe at his vulgarity. "When I get bored of her, which I _will_, or when I feel in a particularly foul mood...very much like now for example...she might find herself with a pretty bruise decorating her face as well." She had begged Sansa not to go through with the match. From the moment the yellow-haired prick had come through the gates of Winterfell, she knew he'd be trouble. And of course all Sansa could see was the beautiful appeal of becoming his queen, the queen.

"See that you keep your hands off of her," she whispered harshly and he girnned.

"Then be a good girl and run along, and we won't speak of this to my father," he told her and Fallon's fists were balled up tight by her sides. Oh how she longed to wipe that smirk off of his face. But she thought of Sansa. The girl was naive and helpless when it came to men. She fell at the feet of any, young, handsome boy who smiled at her. But if she wouldn't look out for herself, Fallon would do her best to help her while she could.

So she turned and walked, as he'd instructed, ghost at her heels. She didn't look back over her shoulder for fear of what she might do if she saw his face again. Ghost was yipping excitedly when they rounded the corner and she spotted Jon and Enat looking at her with solemn expressions. But she didn't say a word, just left the two of them outside, ghost at Jon's side.

She made it a few steps inside the castle before she let down her facade. She felt the sting of salty tears in her eyes but she refused to cry. She wouldn't let that monstrosity intimidate her. She placed her hand against the wall to hold herself up as she steadied her breaths, wiping her eyes with the opposite.

"Fallon?" she heard and was startled by the sound.

She looked up to see Kathryn and Robb standing there in the intersecting corridor and Robb's expression of confusion turned to concern when he saw her face. He dropped Kathryn's arm and walked quickly to Fallon's side. He moved her hair from her face, pushing it back to expose the bruise that was most likely already showing and her lip that she'd yet to clean up.

"Who did this to you?" he asked angrily and she began shaking her head as she pulled her face away from his touch. His calloused fingers grazing her neck as she did so.

"No one," she said quickly.

"Clearly it was someone," he corrected and she sighed.

"I meant, no one of importance. A little sparring gotten out of hand is all," she told him, hoping he couldn't see the lie in her eyes as he searched them with his own. "I'm alright, really. I just get a little too competitive when I'm losing," she added.

"You see love," Kathryn said sweetly as she took Robb's arm in hers once more. "She said she's fine."

"Yes but look at her, she's not," he persisted and Fallon met Kathryn's eyes. For once, they had a common goal. Both wanted Robb as far away from her as possible and as their eyes locked, they both knew that neither would stand in the other's way.

"I saw her out the window, sparring with a boy from the village Robb, she's telling the truth," Kathryn said and he looked down at her in surprise. Kathryn never once collaborated a story for Fallon's benefit. This time was different, because it was to Kathryn's benefit that she lie. Robb looked back to Fallon.

"You're sure you're alright?" he asked, looking down at her with so much concern that Fallon had to look away from his gaze.

"Yes," she said with a smile. "I'll just have this cleaned up and I'll..."

"ROBB!" The shout came from the direction Fallon had just entered and all three of them spun around to see Jon calling to them through the door. "Come quickly, it's Bran!" he shouted and both Robb and Fallon wasted no time in following. Fallon only looked over her shoulder once to tell Kathryn to get Lady Stark before she lifted her dresses and followed Robb out into the courtyard.

It was only a short run to the place where they spotted him, the child's body lying there, lifeless on the ground. Fallon felt her throat swell as she saw him, and slowed her running until she came to a complete stop. Jaime and Cersei Lannister were standing by the boy's body, and Fallon couldn't understand why no one had moved him inside.

"Where's Maester Luwin?!" she asked, her voice catching in her throat as she moved her eyes away from Bran and to Jaime.

"How would I know, I've been preoccupied here," he said and she stepped closer to where Robb was crouched down, shaking the boy. Fallon knelt down by his side, looking down at Bran's mangled position. She placed her ear against his chest, closing her eyes as she waited for a familiar sound.

"Come on Bran," Robb said eagerly. "Wake up!"

"Bran!" Jon was shouting.

Their shouts were distracting, she couldn't think. She searched her memory for knowledge of what to do, of how to help as she took Bran's small hand in hers. She then looked up above her and spotted the tower and wondered just how high he had gotten before the fall.

But it didn't add up, Bran was an exceptional climber, even though just an hour before she'd told him to get down from the wall in the opposite courtyard, as his mother had requested. She said she'd keep it a secret between the two of them, that she wouldn't tell Lady Stark so long as he quit climbing. She thought he'd listen, but he hadn't.

"He's alive," she whispered with a sigh of relief and saw Robb move. "Wait!" she shouted as Robb reached underneath the boy to pick him up. "Don't move him yet," she told him, hurrying up and over to Bran's other side. "We need to keep him lying flat," she said and Robb looked confused.

"We need to get him inside," he whispered and she nodded, placing her hand on his face.

"Trust me," she said quietly and after a moment he nodded and ran off to search for something, anything to keep Bran flat when they'd move him. She then looked to Jon.

"I told Kathryn to get Lady Stark," she said quickly. "You must keep her from seeing Bran this way." Jon nodded and stood. "Make sure the Maester finds his way quickly. I don't know how long we'll have." She'd barely finished speaking when Jon was running back towards the castle, leaving her to look up at the Lannisters.

"You're quite quick under pressure for such a young girl," Jaime said and Fallon scowled.

"You were very lucky to find him" she said, ignoring his ill-timed humor. "This isn't a very common part of the grounds."

"We were on a walk," Cersei said defensively and Fallon raised her head up to meet the queen's eyes. "Jaime was escorting me around the grounds when we found him here. We didn't see the fall." Fallon didn't like the look in the woman's eyes, nor how she refused to look down at Bran as she spoke about him as if he wasn't there.

"You seem to know much about falls, is that because you took one of your own?" Jaime said as he crouched down, placing his hand on her lip. Fallon slapped it away. "Ouch, touchy are we?"

"Don't touch me," she whispered and turned to see Robb approaching with a wagon that had a large enough board over it that they could set Bran down as easily as possible. She looked around to see if Jon had returned but was still left without an extra hand aside from Robb's. She'd have to make due. She looked up to Jaime. "Lift his feet, but not until I say so. Robb, you'll grab his head. I will support his back."

The three of them positioned themselves, both men looking at Fallon, waiting for her command. As they lifted him, Fallon could feel how light he was in their arms, how fragile he would have been to such a fall. She tried not to think of such things as she concentrated on lowering him slowly, setting him gently on the board and pulling her hands out from under him.

It was Robb who started rolling him in, and they ran into Lord Stark with the Maester and Jon at his side. He looked down at his son, lying there on the cart, his hands shaking as he saw the fragile state he was in.

Fallon stopped following, stood in one spot as she watched them wheel Bran in quickly. Her heart was pounding and the stress finally rearing it's head as she stood there, the wind blowing around her, hoping beyond hope that he'd be okay, that perhaps she'd done something good to help him.

It took a brisk run, but soon enough, she found herself beneath the weirwood once again, this time on her knees as she looked up at the great tree, tears falling freely from her eyes. She didn't bother to wipe them, only used the moment of silence and solitude to let loose the emotions she'd buried so deep down within her.

Her silent crying soon turned to quiet weeping, then to sobbing as she felt it all rise out of her. Every part of her crying out. The part that missed home, missed her brothers, missed Aedan's touch, her father's laugh. She cried out for Bran who was holding onto life by a string, to Sansa who would soon be forced to grow up so quickly.

She was there for a long time, feeling the aching inside of her. She knew the sun was fading in the sky and that soon someone would come to fetch her. Though, in Bran's state, she didn't know if dinner would be an event. She wasn't hungry anyways. She pulled out the letter from her skirts, the one Enat had given to her from Aedan and she read over the words again and again until she could hardly breathe from her sobbing. '_Take care of Fallon,' _ it had read in the Old Tongue, the language of her homeland. She clutched the bit of parchment in her hand and leaned over and cried against the weirwood tree, her tears were now uncontrollable.

Over her sobs she didn't hear the footsteps behind her or hear the person kneel down by her side. She only felt the strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her against his chest so her face was in the nook of his shoulder. She didn't have to see him to know it was Robb, stroking her hair as she clutched his tunic. She tried to pull away feebly but he only pulled her in tighter and she lost the will to care.

They sat like that until the darkness fell, and the sun was long set beyond the trees. She didn't move until she'd settled her breaths and calmed her sobs until all that was left was a soreness in her throat and swelling in her eyes. She looked up at him to see that he too had redness in his eyes and she wondered if he had already been crying when he found her.

She suddenly felt a sense of worry wash over her. She couldn't be sure where it came from, but she was worried all the same as she saw the dread in his eyes. Bran would be fine, she wanted to assure him. Bran would live through this, she could have said. But no words came from her mouth as she tried to speak. So she did the only thing she could think of. She placed her lips against his, pulling him closer until there was no space between them. She forgot everything then as she tried not to focus on the way his lips moved, or the how warm his hand was on the based of her neck. She couldn't afford to notice those things.

She was going back on her promise to herself and Lord Stark. She knew that. But it was only for this moment. Right now, this was what Robb needed, regardless of her feelings, regardless of his.

Only for now.

A/N: Oh my goodness! I am so excited to see that people are actually enjoying the story. I'm trying to keep it as close to canon as possible, but of course there will be minor tweaks here and there when adding in OCs. Let me know what you guys thought, what you liked or didn't like.


	5. Chapter 5

**Savages**

Chapter Five

**[Fallon]**

"Four hundred years ago, Skagos was ruled by a High Lord who sought to bring peace to the savagery of the tribes that ravaged the land. The High Lord was called 'The Magnar,' which means 'lord' in the Old Tongue. He ruled the land and it's people, and rode into battle with his armies on the back of a large unicorn. He had a great warrior who, to every battle, rode by his side and protected him from a savage death. The warrior's name was Cynwrig, commonly known as Cynwrig the Brute because he was a mighty, brute of a man, one of the most honored Skagosi fighters that came to be," she whispered as she sat at Bran's side.

He may not have heard the words she spoke, but it was somewhat of a comfort for her and for Lady Stark, when she sat there telling the stories as the fire crackled in the corner. It was the second day since Bran's fall and Maester Luwin said the worst was over. All that had to do now was wait. Fallon wasn't sure if it was Lady Stark, or herself, that it comforted most, but either way, she welcomed the distraction.

"He fought with the strength of twenty men with a large, a thick sword as his weapon, a weapon still used by Skagosi warriors today. They sent him in the battle the day the barbarians came, the men who had sailed all the way from Bravos across The Shivering Sea. They ravaged the land, stealing the women and children for their slaves."

Fallon was stroking Bran's hair back as she spoke, trying not to think of her brother Corran. He was only three years older than Bran. He too had been fond of climbing though after the incident, Fallon was sure to never let him climb the cliffs again. Every once in awhile she'd glance over to Lady Stark who was working intently on a prayer ring for Bran. But sometimes she catch her looking up, paying close attention to Fallon's words as she spoke the story she'd heard a thousand times.

"Fourty days passed since the landing of the barbarians, and the sealord, Thasamund, realized for all the slaves he took, he was still losing the great battle against the Magnar and his army. They weren't strong enough for he mountainous terrain. So in order to defeat Cynwrig and the lord's men, Thasamund stole the Magnar's daughter, Senara. She was beautiful, and the most sought after maiden in the land. Cynwrig loved Senara and vowed one day to proof he was worthy of her hand. When Thasamund kidnapped her and planned to make her his wife, Cynwrig brought down a great wrath upon him and the sealords were defeated. To honor his bravery, the Magnar wed his daughter to Cynwrig and made him a Magnar of the Northern coasts."

She remembered the way Bran usually reacted to hers stories. He would get excited and smile and reenact the battles with Rickon out in the courtyards. Sometimes she would play one of the Skagsi maidens and wait up in the tall tower until Bran would defeat Robb or Theon and save her.

But now he was just lying there, helpless and silent. She tried to picture his laugh, the way his lips would curve up into a smile before he let loose a loud laugh he'd been trying to hold back.

Summer was starting to breath slow and steady, signalling that he had long fallen asleep. Fallon watched his chest fill and then fall in rhythm with Bran's. For a long time she just watched them, listening to the breathing and the crackle of the fire and it dulled her thoughts. She was thankful for that. She wished more than anything she could find a way to dull those thoughts in the back of her mind for good. But they were still there, haunting her like the guilt that was welling up in the pit of her stomach every time she saw...

"Fallon." The hoarse call of her name removed her from those thoughts and she looked up to see Lady Stark looking at her with weary eyes.

"Yes My Lady," she replied, sitting up straight from her previous place bent over against the bed.

"I hear the men gathering the horses. Would you please find Lord Stark and send him to say goodbye to Bran." Fallon didn't waste time in standing and walking to Lady Stark's side. She placed her hand on the woman's shoulder and left it there for a long moment before she walked out the door.

She was only halfway down the hall when she nearly ran right into Jon who was coming through the doors just as she was exiting. They both laughed as they held each other up from falling. She stood, looking up at Jon who was dressed and ready for travel all the way to the Wall. She remembered then that she wanted to talk to Benjen before he left.

"So, is this to be our goodbye Snow?" she asked with a small smile.

"That it is," he replied as he pulled her into a weak embrace. She wanted to laugh as he hugged her awkwardly and wondered if this was how he hugged Enat. Neither of them knew that Fallon had seen them together far too often not to put together the pieces. It was quite obvious once she thought about it. Of course he didn't hug her like this. Fallon kissed his cheek to hide her smile.

"This will be quite different without you here," she told him and he shrugged.

"I can't imagine anyone will miss me too terribly," he joked and she raised an eyebrow.

"I can think of several, one in particular, who will miss you a great deal," she reminded him and she couldn't tell if it was the cool air or the embarrassment that left a light pink tint, nearly undetectable, on his stubbled cheeks.

A moment passed between them where they laughed quietly and it died away into the silence of the corridor. They stood there for several moments and she could tell by the expression on his face what he was going to say next. She wished he wouldn't, she wished he hadn't been so attuned to the things going on around him.

"He's happy you're staying," he said quietly, and she looked around to see if anyone would overhear them.

"I'd be much more content if he was indifferent to my staying," she tried to joke but Jon didn't laugh.

"I know what you're trying to do Fallon," he whispered. "Whatever you might think about my brother, I can assure you, he's stubborn. He fights for the things he wants," Jon told her and she grinned.

"I guess I'll just have to give Robb someone else to fight for then," she told him and he laughed.

"Robb?" he joked. "I was talking about Bran."

She knew he'd caught her then, knowing exactly what was going on between Robb and Fallon. But she wasn't about to give up on her promise. She would do what she had to in order to make this place her home. Even if that meant breaking his heart.

She looked at Jon for a few more moments, memorizing his light eyes and she hugged him tightly. This time the hug was returned and they both said goodbye without words. She looked at him once before nodded curtly and walking away, leaving him to say goodbye to Bran which would be awkward enough with Lady Stark there. She didn't want to interfere with that.

She passed down the northern corridor until she reached the round staircase and walked out into the courtyard by the North Gate. The men were still packing up the horses, the King's family was waiting around anxiously to depart.

She spotted Arya, holding her medium-sized trunk uneasily as she walked it over to the carriage. Fallon laughed as she reached for it and helped the girl lift it onto the back. Arya looked up at Fallon with a sad smile and hugged her around her waist. Fallon put her arms around Arya and returned the sentiment. She then looked up at Fallon with a solemn expression.

"I wish you were coming too," she said and Fallon smiled.

"What use would I be?" Fallon replied, moving Arya's braid from her shoulder. "You'll be having too much fun to be thinking of me."

"Sansa will drive me crazy," she replied and Fallon felt a laugh rise out of her throat a bit louder than she'd expected. A few faces turned, including one with dark russet hair and blue eyes. She looked away quickly. "And who will tell me stories about the North now?"

"Your father knows all about the North, I assure you," Fallon said but Arya didn't seem satisfied. It was then that Lord Stark walked over with a grin on his face.

"But I don't know all the stories of Skagos," he told them.

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to write them to you while you're away, will that please you?" she asked and Arya nodded. Fallon knelt down so she was eye to eye with her, even though the two weren't very far off in size. "You remember what I taught you?" she asked and Arya smiled. "Protect your father, he'll need your help where he's going." Arya hugged her once more before running back towards her brother and Fallon looked up to see the man who towered over her.

"You sure you don't want to come?" he asked.

"I'm sure I'd just be in the way My Lord," she replied with a grin and then quickly tried to redirect the conversation. "My Lady Stark was looking for you, thought you might want to leave some parting words with Bran." He nodded, his smile fading somewhat. He grabbed her hand in both of hers.

"I am happy you came to us Fallon," he told her and she nodded. Not sure how to respond. "You've been a welcomed addition to this family and your acceptance...it means much."

"Lord Stark, I am forever grateful to your kindness."

"When I return next, I will take you home," he said and her eyes snapped from his hands to his eyes and she felt her throat tighten. Home. It was a word she'd given up on.

"But My Lord," she said quickly. "My father's debts..."

"Do not need to be paid by his daughter. I cannot keep you from your life Fallon. If it is your home you want, I cannot deny you that. I have come to see that now. You deserve a life of your own choosing."

"I'm not sure what to say," she whispered and he grinned.

"Fallon Magnar, without something to say?"

"I just don't think 'thank you' could suffice," she replied, trying to ignore the ache in her throat as she tried not to show her tears of joy.

"You could thank me me by taking care of Catelyn, keep her mind off Bran. Rickon will need someone to distract him, you're good at that. And of course Robb. He'll need support. He's got a lot of responsibility coming."

"I'll see to it," she said finally and he embraced her then, like he would a member of his own family. It was nice, the feeling. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her own father, felt his embrace. It had been nearly a year. This man wasn't her father, but she considered Ned Stark a part of her life now, just as she did for the rest of them.

"Farewell Lady Magnar," he said and Fallon watched as he entered the castle.

She stood there alone, not sure exactly where she should go next as she looked around her. She was surrounded by people busying themselves for the journey. Cersei and Jaime Lannister were whispering to one another and Fallon grew suspicious of their behavior since the incident. They'd been curiously lucky to find Bran, together looking disheveled and indifferent to the situation. She wasn't sure what it was about the two of them, but something was amiss.

"Did you come from Bran's bedside?" a voice asked and she heard Robb's footsteps before he even spoke. She glanced away from Cersei who was now looking up at her curiously and to Robb who was standing with Kathryn at his side.

"Yes," she responded and Kathryn rolled her eyes.

"Yes, _Lord Stark_," she corrected and Fallon narrowed her eyes at the younger girl.

"My father has yet to leave Winterfell Kathryn, I am not Lord yet," Robb said and looked apologetically at Fallon who simply ignored the girl's rudeness. "And Fallon doesn't have to call me that. She's not a servant."

"She's not one of us either," Kathryn ground out and Fallon refused to listen to them bicker.

"Bran was just listening to one of my stories," Fallon interrupted. "The one about the warrior Cynwrig. He likes that one. It won't be long now before he's reenacting it himself."

"Maester Luwin says if he'd been meant to die, he'd have done it already. The worst is over," Robb added and Fallon nodded.

It was the first time they'd spoke since Bran's fall, and more importantly, since she'd kissed him. She still wasn't sure what made her do it. The grief in his eyes perhaps, or the grief in her own. Whatever the reason, it had made some of their initial tension return and she hated that they couldn't speak freely. Especially not with Kathryn standing there looking at Fallon as if she were about to snatch Robb right out of the younger girl's fingertips. Said fingertips were clenched tightly around his arm with no evidence they would detach themselves any time soon.

"I should go," she said finally and Kathryn smiled at the idea. "I want to speak with your uncle before he departs for The Wall."

"He's by the stables," Kathryn said to hurry her along. Fallon knew how to take a hint. She knew when she was unwanted. But she also knew that Kathryn was being possessive. That meant she was threatened. Fallon wanted nothing to do with Robb, not in the way Kathryn thought at least. And yet she didn't feel inclined to do as the girl said just because she was to be the Lady of Winterfell long after Fallon had departed.

"Would you like to accompany me?" she found herself asking as she looked at the girl who looked back at her in confusion.

"I've promised I'd visit Bran with Robb," she replied tactfully and Fallon glanced down at Kathryn's fingers as they tightened once again around Robb's arm.

"Very well," Fallon replied and performed her best curtsey to mock Kathryn's earlier corrections. "Lord Stark...Lady Ashford," she said dramatically, trying with difficulty not to laugh as she walked away, wishing she could turn back to see Kathryn's expression.

Though Fallon had no issues imagining it over and over again until she disappeared around the corner and left the two staring after her.

* * *

**[Kathryn]**

Life was back to the same boring routine after the caravan left. She would have given anything to be in the carriage with Sansa and Arya, traveling south towards her home in the Reach. But instead she was stuck here, sitting in the Great Hall with Robb and Theon Greyjoy who were talking about the hunt continuously.

Robb was a handsome man, only a few years her senior which made her happy enough. But he was a Northerner and there was just something about Northerners that was off-putting to Kathryn. He liked adventure and excitement, whereas Kathryn preferred to talk about the court at King's Landing and order new fabrics for the wedding.

It would be a while before they were wed, she'd heard. With Lord Stark performing his duties as Hand of the King and Bran's injury, they would have to postpone the event until things settled down. It would be months before Lord Stark would return to Winterfell and therefore months before she could be seen as a lady of the house.

She'd already started training the staff. They knew what to call her, what to serve her at supper and when she liked to perform her everyday activities. The servants were relatively kind enough, understanding her unfortunately circumstances and homesickness. They often tended to her, Robb's men would bring her Northern flowers they would find off in the forest during their hunts.

But it was Robb's attention she was having trouble keeping.

She had only had this same difficulty with one other man and that was Loras Tyrell back in the Reach. He had visited her many times at Ashford but as hard as Kathryn would try, Loras would never give her the time of day. She assumed he was just playing coy. He was from a highborn house after all, the most noble house in all of the Reach. But House Ashford would have made a good alliance in her opinion. Which was why she found it so devastating when her father had betrothed her to Robb Stark.

Even now she wrote her letters to Loras and found his responses rather lacking for her adolescent desires. She wanted romance and passion. Loras was by far the most handsome man in all of Westeros and she had been compared to the most beautiful ladies of all time. And yet he never wrote about her beauty, only about tournaments in the South and how fond his sister was of her.

And everyone knew that Robb Stark only had eyes for Fallon Magnar.

It was frustrating beyond belief. Even as he talked with Theon she saw him perk up at the mention of the brunette savage who had been skipping many of her embroidery lessons to practice shooting a bow with the Greyjoy swine. She'd have preferred it that way honestly. Kathryn didn't find herself very comfortable in the presence of a Skagg and having her spend more time with Theon meant less time under Robb's careful watch.

It was something they could both agree on however.

While Robb seemed besotted with the girl, she didn't seem to return his glances or smiles from across the room. On the rare occasion that Fallon and Robb did spend time together however, Kathryn found it very appropriate. Fallon didn't flirt with him, didn't touch him casually. In fact the only time she'd seen the two make contact in the last month was when Fallon had slipped as she climbed up a tree and Robb was right there to catch her fall.

Kathryn rolled her eyes at the thought.

If he'd spent as much time courting her as he did Fallon, she might have a sense of how to control her future husband better. But she didn't. She had no clue. She'd tried flirting and even a couple kisses here and there but nothing seemed to pull his longing glances in her direction.

Kathryn watched as the girl with the auburn hair walked over to the table where a plate lie full and untouched, most likely cold by now. She lifted it and Katryn placed her hand over the girl's arm to lower it.

"Where are you taking that?" she asked, insulted that a servant would come in while the family was still eating and presume she could take her meal then as well.

"It's for milday," the girl said, her eyes locked with Kathryn's, much to latter's surprise.

"For Lady Stark?" she asked and the girl shook her head.

"For my Lady Fallon," she said defiantly, even though Kathryn recalled several times where she'd corrected the girl's use of Fallon's former title.

"Is she unwell?" Robb asked then and Kathryn sighed audibly, causing all three of the others to look at her in confusion.

"Milady is a bit tired is all, My Lord. She was up last night with Lord Brandon. She hasn't slept a full night since the incident." Robb stood then and took the plate from Enat and placed it on the table.

"Enat, go and rest, you look as though you have not gotten a full night's rest in some time either," he told her and she looked at him momentarily before nodding and heading out towards the servant wing of the castle.

"Robb, what are you doing?" Kathryn asked as Robb assembled several pieces of food from the table and placing it on a new plate.

"Bringing food up to Fallon and my mother. I won't have the women of Winterfell starving themselves in grief," he joked and Kathryn frowned as he referenced Fallon as a 'woman of Winterfell.' She looked down at her own plate, food barely touched because she couldn't stand having lamb for the fourth night in a row.

"Certainly her maid could have..." she started but Robb gave her a look that caused her to halt her words. He didn't look at her again as he walked out, leaving her there with Theon failing at keeping a laugh hidden away behind his smirk. "And _what_, may I ask, is so funny?" she asked sourly.

"Just couldn't help but notice milady that you're trying too hard," Theon said and her eyes widened. "Pardoning my boldness of course."

"That _is_ quite bold of you to say so," she said with a frown and turn her head away as he ate. The minstrels were still playing her favorite song but it didn't drown out the sound of Theon's chewing which made her cringe. But as she sat there, she found herself more and more curious as she thought of his words and then turned back to him.

"And why would you say that anyways?"

"What? That you're trying too hard?" he asked and she nodded curtly. "Well for one, Robb doesn't like girls all clingy like. And you spend a great deal of time questioning the things he does."

"I just don't see his fascination with..." she paused. A lady should never divulge secrets about a man to his friend.

"You don't see why he takes so well to Lady Fallon?" he asked, already knowing the answer as he grinned.

"It's just Fallon, why do you people have so much trouble remembering that?!" she asked, her fists balling up and Theon laughed.

"No one's forgotten milady," he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Kathryn's lips pursed under her nose in disgust. "We call her that, because that's what she is."

"Hardly," she said rolling her eyes.

"He likes her because she's kind, because she's intriguing."

"I'm intriguing," she argued and he snorted.

"Compared to Fallon, you're still a naive child in Robb's eyes," he said before standing and leaving her there, sitting alone as the minstrel strummed the tune. But she couldn't hear it. All she could hear was the words Theon had just left with her. She mulled over them for the next hour until her maids came down to find her, her hand clenched around her goblet and the room spinning from its contents.

Theon had humiliated her and had anyone else been around to see it, she'd have made him eat his words.

But perhaps she could save that for another time.

* * *

**[Robb]**

The lights had long faded from the sky and the corridors were left with the bright flames of torches burning on their walls. Robb had already visited his mother, unable to comfort her with more than a smile and a small kiss on the forehead. She had barely looked up from Bran's frail form as she squeezed his hand feebly and went back to her prayers.

Now he was climbing the steps of Library Tower where Fallons room was located. She had had moved there a few weeks after her arrival to Winterfell, his father seeing her fondness for books and thought she might want the old room that had once belonged to Lyanna Stark, with a window that looked out over the moors.

He knocked lightly at the door and heard a tired voice tell him to enter. He held the covered plate tightly in one hand as he opened the door with the other and then nearly dropped it as he entered and saw her there, hot steam rising around her as she sat in the small bath by the window.

"Oh! So Sorry, I didn't..." he stuttered, turning away as he saw her eyes widen, but not before his eyes had taken in much more of her than he'd imagined even.

"Robb, it's okay," she said, her voice nearly hoarse. He started towards the door but heard her call out. "Wait," she said quietly. "Don't go, I thought...Enat said she'd be back. I wouldn't have sent you in with me like this had I known." Robb was still facing the door but could hear the sound of the water as she moved in it.

"She was bringing you food but I insisted she rest," he said.

"Will you hand me my robe?" she asked and Robb felt his chest leap at her voice, her words even and he searched around for the garment she spoke of. "It's near the vanity there, by the fire." He spotted it then, the thin garment hardly enough to keep anyone warm, but he recognized it as the one she'd worn the morning her family rode back to Skagos. He set down the plate and then pulled the garment gently, feeling the soft fabric between his fingertips.

"Shall I put it on to hide my shame?" he joked and her familiar laugh filled the air.

"Just stand right there," she said and he heard the sound of her climbing out of the tub, her wet footsteps then walking closer and closer until he felt the fabric tug. There was a brief moment when he felt the warmth of her wet hand graze his thumb before the fabric was then out of his hand completely. "And you shouldn't be ashamed," she told him. "You didn't see anything and I doubt you came in here purposely seeking to find me in such a state."

"I can assure you that was not my intent," he said with an amused tone to match hers.

"Perhaps I should coordinate secret knocks with Enat as not to repeat the mistake again," she teased and Robb felt the laughter rising as his embarrassment fell. "You can turn around now My Lord," she whispered and he turned to find her standing behind a partition as she pulled the robe off and hung it over the top and started sliding on a nightgown. He could only see the top of her neck and up, her hair long and wet, most likely smelling of winter roses as he gathered from the lingering scent in the room. The robe was now soaked as it hung over the partition and he tried to refrain from imagining it stuck to her wet skin.

It was only moments later that she pulled another robe around her nightgown, one that was dry and she tied it around her waist so that she was appropriately attired for male company. She smiled as she sat down in one of the large chairs by the fire where Robb had placed her plate to warm.

"I could have saved you the trouble by telling you I am not hungry," she said, motioning for him to sit in the chair near her. The fire was comforting, especially on this particularly cool night and he felt his body thank him as it soaked in the warmth.

"You've been absent from many dinners this week," he reminded her but by her expression, she was very aware he was planning to say this.

"My appetite is not as it should be. I've spoken to Maester Luwin and he's given me a potion to help me sleep better. I will take it after I see to Bran tonight," she said and Robb shook his head.

"You'll not go spend all hours with Bran telling him stories until you can barely speak," he told her gently and she looked at him for a long moment before grinning.

"Since when did you become my master?" she teased.

"Since I became Lord of Winterfell I suppose," he joked back. "And if I'm to make sure my ward is healthy and happy, I'll have to forbid her from late nights at a boy's bedside. You need your rest just like everyone else. He'll forgive you for not being there every second of the day like my mother. Some times even Bran needs his own privacy."

"She's only trying to do what she thinks is best," she told him.

Robb knew she was right, knew that Fallon too wanted to help his mother through this tough time. But he didn't like the thought of either of them dwindling down to nothingness while they did it. He knew his mother's sorrow, but Fallon's was the most confusing of all. She had cared for Bran, he knew that much. But the fall had caused a particular stir inside of her. Her reaction after Bran was lifted off into the castle after the incident caused a stir in him as well. Several in fact.

He thought of that moment beneath the ancient weirwood and he couldn't help but remember how right it had felt to hold her in his arms. Even now, as he looked at the water from her hair trickle down her neck he wanted to feel her body against his once more. To comfort her as she had comforted him.

To feel her lips.

"Enat said you had trouble sleeping," he said, trying to shake his mind from the thoughts of her pink lips that were rounded at the bottom and fit perfectly against his. He tried to ignore the way she licked them lightly after she sipped from her goblet and looked up at him.

"She shouldn't say such things. They can be misinterpreted as..."

"...As something being wrong?" he supplied and her lips curved up into a small smile.

"Yes exactly what I was going to say," she informed him, tucking her knees up under her chin as she wrapped her arms around them and stared into the flames.

"I know something is bothering you, I saw it in your eyes when I walked in...I see it now." Her eyes were the color of warm emeralds as they flashed towards him and her smile grew.

"And here I thought you'd seen nothing when you walked in." She was good at evading the subject, but even Robb was better and leading her back to what she'd desperately tried to ignore.

"Fallon, what's wrong?" he asked and she sighed, defeated. She didn't seem willing to put up a fight once she could see that Robb wasn't willing to back down from his questioning.

"I have dreams, often times they're memories from home," she explained and he watched her expression carefully. "Can I tell you a story Stark?" she asked in a whisper and he felt himself sink into her watchful gaze as their eyes locked.

"Please," he whispered in return and she cleared her sore throat for what began her story.

"There was a girl once, who lived in a treacherous land of rugged terrain. The mountains reached far above her and the cliffs overlooked the valleys far below her no matter where she stood on the large island. She found peace in her surroundings, the whispering wind spilling secrets in the night as they rushed across the moors. Her favorite were the adventures, the kinds where a journey would be action packed," she said easily as if she'd spoken this story a thousand times before. But at the same time, the words were novel as they came from her lips and he could tell that Fallon had not shared this story in quite some time.

"What was her name?" he asked and she looked away.

"She was the nighean of the Magnar," she whispered, the word 'nighean she'd used before in several of her stories to Bran. It meant 'daughter' in the Old Tongue and more importantly, she used it to refer to herself. "Nighean could ride horseback from her younger years and would ride out with her older brothers across the island towards the tall cliffs of the sealine. She was still very much a child, perhaps only twelve years passed her first name day when the incident occurred." Robb's brow furrowed but he knew better than to interrupt. "The brothers of Nighean climbed up the cliffside, racing to the top where they would plunge themselves deep into the cold ocean waters. They had raced time and time again, always the same, the eldest brother dominating the other two."

"Broden was strong?" he asked, thinking of Fallon's eldest brother he had yet to meet. Rowan seemed like strong enough a man, he couldn't imagine anyone with more power. But here she said Broden was the winner, Broden who was now Lord of Kingshouse, the Magnar of the Skagosi warriors.

"Not Broden,"she whispered hoarsely as she looked from Robb's eyes to the fire. He watched the flames dance across her eyes as liquid pooled beneath them. "K..." she paused as the word caught in her throat. "Keeran," she said with some difficulty. "The Nighean had an eldest brother then, Keeran the future Magnar. He was just like his father in every aspect."

"What happened?"

"Keeran always one the races to the top of the cliffs, leaving Broden and Rowan far behind to watch their elder brother laugh as he'd dive into the sea," she said, wiping her eyes. "But one day, Keeran had been showing off, a girl from the village had come to watch as the brothers Magnar raced up the side of the cliff, all the townsboys and warriors challenging Keeran to the fastest climb. The village girl was beautiful, long dark hair and eyes like sunshine over the cloudless sea. It would be a glorious win, he said. The Magnar even came to watch, he'd be proud when he son proved himself a real Magnar once again."

"Did he win?" he asked, thought he wasn't sure why. Fallon's words, told the story but her eyes gave him the answer from the very beginning.

"Yes," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "He reached the top before all the others. This angered one of the warriors. Keeran was young, only eighteen and the man was nearly thirty. He wanted to prove himself to be worthy. But he never beat Keeran as hard as he tried. So that day, he pretended to slip, lost his footing or some nonsense he'd said. Keeran reached over to help him, grabbed his wrist and began pulling up as hard as he could to pull the man from falling so far to his death. But the man didn't want his help. He simply pulled with all of _his_ strength and Keeran was the one falling. I watched," she said and Robb noticed it was the first time she'd referred to herself instead of 'the nighean.' "I watched as Keeran fell down towards me and I was helpless to stop him."

"Fallon," he said, realizing then what plagued her mind.

"I watched him fall Stark, I watch Keeran fall and unlike your brother he did not live to see another day."

They sat in silence for moments before Robb reached his hand over and placed it on hers. She stared at the hand and he stared at her gaze, curious to see what she'd do when he squeezed her fingertips in between his palms. But she didn't seem to react, only stayed there as she held back tears behind her tired eyes.

"Keeran never heard me," she whispered. "He never once heard my voice as I called out for him, held his lifeless body in my arms when my father tried to pull me away. When I saw Bran..."

"What happened to Keeran, can't be undone. But Bran will get through this. You help him every day by staying at his side. We're all grateful that you care so much about him," he explained but Fallon's eyes were still on his hand, over hers.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" he asked, knowing full well that it had nothing to do with her distance. She shook her head and pulled her hand into her lap, finally looking up.

"My distance is caused by my desire not to remain a good friend," she told him strangely and he frowned at the sound.

"A friend who barely speaks to said friend?" he asked and she shook her head.

"A friend who knows when her distance is more appropriate that perhaps a shoulder to lean on..."

"Or lips..." he suggested and he saw a flash of pink on her cheeks for only a moment before she placed her hand over one in an attempt to hide it.

"As a friend, Stark, she said, looking up into his eyes as he sat in front of her. "I am telling you that your efforts, while very flattering, would be better suited elsewhere." It was like a hammer to the gut. The words, so indifferent, so blunt as the left her lips.

"I guess I should be embarrassed by my behavior then," he said and she shook her head.

"Don't be embarrassed by your passion. Just redirect it. There is a flower, waiting to bloom from your nurturing gazes, from your generosity, your..."

"You shower me with compliments and yet scorn my attentions in the same breath," he said bitterly. He tried to hide it, but the more she spoke, the more he felt the need to describe how her words burned him like embers to the flesh.

"No," she said quickly, reaching for his hand. "Never scorn you..just..."

"What do you see in me that is so deplorable that you cannot even seem to stomach the idea?" he asked and she sighed heavily. "Can't you see my feelings for you have grown. You have become more than a friend to me Fallon. I feel things that I had never even knew existed beyond minstrels songs. I don't know what they are, but I know they push me towards you."

He stood and pulled her to her feet as well and he looked down at her, cupping her neck as she struggled, as usual, to stare up at him. Her nightgown had fallen slightly, exposing the soft flesh of her neck that glowed warm in the firelight. His thumb grazed over it and he watched as her eyes closed at the contact.

He placed his lips near her ear as he breathed, listening to her intake and outtake, matching her heaving chest as they stood so intimately close. He could take her in his arms if he wanted. But he wouldn't, he'd refrain until he could no longer control himself anymore.

"Tell me you don't feel it too?" he whispered and watched the gooseflesh appear on her skin as his breath hit her ear. She caught her breath after a few seconds passed and she looked up into his eyes, searching them as if to find the answer he wanted most to hear. But the answer he wanted, was the truth. He wanted to hear the truth from her lips whether good or bad, whether she felt the spark between them or not.

"Stark..." she whispered. "I did things, said things I'm not proud of, gave you an impression that I have a heart that is free to give but I do not. I am a soulless being, forever wandering in sorrow because I can never have what you so desperately seek from me," she said with downcast eyes.

"I don't understand," he said and she shook her head.

"Of course not. You look at me and you think I could possibly make you happy, give you what you desire?!" her voice was a raised whisper now, heated by a fire now within her as she spoke. "I can't give you those things."

"And why not?! What prevents you from finding happiness in the idea of a future here by my side."

"And what future is that?! You yourself don't even know how to define the feelings you claim to have, that I supposedly inspire and yet you are ready to drop your duty for them. You are Lord of Winterfell and with that comes responsibilities. If you gave Kathryn half the time of day you give me..."

"I know my duties," he said solidly. "I know what I am to become, who she is to become."

"And yet you ask me to look at a future by your side. As what? Your mistress?"

Robb cringed at the word. He couldn't imagine Fallon ever degrading herself to such a position nor would he ever ask her to. He didn't want to have her in some shameful relationship that would be forever looked down upon. He wanted to have her for his own, only he didn't know how he could do that. But none of that mattered if she wasn't interested in having him.

"You won't have me?" he asked her.

"You are not free for me to have, in whatever way you might find yourself thinking and my heart is no more free than yours." His thoughts halted at her words. '_no more free than yours_' she'd said. His heart was somewhere, unknown to him. He didn't know what love was, or how it different from lust. He only knew that it swelled every time she looked at him with those big green eyes of hers. But her heart...if it was not free to give, where was it locked away?

"You are not betrothed," he said as more of a statement than anything and she shook her head.

"But that does not mean my heart does not belong to another," she said, not meeting his gaze. It was enough to crush his hopes then and the feeling was then replaced by an uglier one he'd forgotten the name of.

"Who?" he asked, images and faces flying through his mind. He thought of her smiles and laughs, directed to others, to men who looked at her the way he did. "Who?" he asked again and this time her eyes met his.

"He was my father's man, now my brother's. But I cannot say his name," she struggled to whisper and the face was then clear. The memory was now fresh in his mind as the image of the man's lips on Fallon's forehead, the intimate touching of their hands, her tears as he rode away.

"Aedan," he supplied and Fallon's eyes were now desperate as she shook, tears falling freely. She stepped back from him.

"Please don't," she whispered. "Don't speak his name. No one must know," she told him and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Aedan and I were to wed, I told him I would marry him with my father's permission. But before we could make our intent known, my father wed my elder sister to him instead. There was nothing we could do."

"You mean..."

"Yes, Aedan married my sister and therefore he and I can never be together in this life," she admitted and he shook his head. His anger suddenly drained from his chest as he saw the sorrow in her eyes and he pulled her against his chest.

Her hair was wet against his tunic, but he didn't mind. He just listened to her words over and over in his mind and he could now understand the knife that was ripping through her heart. He could understand that feeling of..something special being ripped away, out of his own control.

He knew that no matter what he felt, what it became...that he and Fallon, no matter how time passed, could ever be together.

Not in this life.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it was a little belated, but it's a bit longer so I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for all of those who are leaving such inspiring and wonderful reviews. I hope this new chapter is a return for all the long wait. Let me know what you think. xoLola


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews. I've been out of the state this weekend so I am just now getting an opportunity to catch up. Oh also, just so everyone knows, when I use 'the old tongue' I'm just using my botched gaelic so it's nothing I'm making up, just borrowing from what I would imagine the old tongue would sound like. I'm not creative enough to make up my own language. Enjoy and let me know what you think of Ch6! xoLola**

**Savages**

**Chapter Six**

**[Fallon]**

The winds whispered against her cheek as the sun rose in the East. The light was hardly noticeable as knelt there silently, her prayers quiet in the depths of her mind. Her hand was placed gently against the bark of the ancient tree, the face that watched her bowed head and lips moving without sound.

She couldn't remember how long she'd been out here. Had it been an hour, perhaps two? It was still dark when she sought out the tree and gave up her prayers to the gods of old. If they answered her, it was subtle, so subtle even that her patience was wearing thin. She'd waited months for word from home and yet there had been not one letter addressed to her. Enat's letters had stopped as well. The ones she'd received were all Fallon had left of her brothers and of Aedan.

She thought after him often, less often by the day though. It was hard to think of him, his smile or his touch, the way his lips touched her forehead, or worse, the way his lips felt against her own. It was enough to bring her stomach to knots, to scorch her heart until she felt as if only ashes were left in the cavity of her chest.

She could now hear the cock crowing in it's roost. It wouldn't be long before the family would rise, before she would find herself at Bran's bedside. She'd spent most of the night thinking of stories he hadn't already heard. There weren't many. So many days passed that she could barely keep count of them. Only Catelyn counted the days, reminding the Maester that another day had gone by with Bran's eyes still closed shut against the world.

But he was alive, breathing. That mattered too. She'd stopped trying to remind her Lady of that. Catelyn was a mother whose heart was dangling by a thin thread. There was no comforting her until Bran's eyes opened and stared back at his mother's longing gaze.

Her eyes opened and she let the light fill them as she glanced up into the canopy of the large tree and watched as a Raven looked down at her. She furrowed her brow as she watched it, it's head cocked to the side curiously as it, too, watched her. She held her arm out and it only paused a moment before stepping off its perch and landing on her wrist. She cringed slightly at the feeling of it's talons against her skin, ignoring the pain as she pulled a noted from the bird's small tarsus.

"Thank you," she whispered and the Raven responded by leaping from her arm, back into the air towards the rookery where it would claim its reward. She then looked down to the parchment, her fingers working quickly on the thread tying it closed. By the time it opened, she could read the short message with ease.

_'The winter village at sundown, with your master'_

She'd recognize the handwriting in the old tongue anywhere. She'd seen her brother always writing since he was a child. His script hadn't changed much over the years and she recognized the curtness in the angled lettering. It was Broden's.

She wasted no time in hurrying in towards the castle. She maneuvered the corridors easily as she searched carefully for the room she sought out. It was near to Bran's, in the Eastern part of the house, but had the corner window that looked out over the moors. She remembered the steps, remembered the way the handle was bent slightly and made the door difficult to open. She latched her hand around the bent piece of iron and twisted until it opened slowly.

She could see the light leaking in through the window farthest from her. It fell lightly upon his features, she noticed as she stepped closer. One arm was draped over his pillow above his head whilst the other lie still over the blankets covering the lower half of his body. His upper half was bare, the hair on his chest slightly darker than the auburn stubble that grew on his chin, and now shone in the small rays of light.

The sight of his curls, the russet color that they were placed messily atop his head caused her to smile ever so slightly. Robb really was a handsome man. Of course she'd noticed. He was a far cry from Jon Snow's Stark features, but still donned a face that reminded her of the kindness of Ned Stark's. If she were a younger girl, she thought she would have perhaps reached out to touch the delicate curls with her small fingertips. But instead she just watched the rise and fall of his chest until she worked up the nerve to wake him.

"Stark," she whispered quietly and his eyes opened slowly at first, taking in her features until recognition fell over his blue orbs. The color reminded her of the ocean she'd sit and watch for hours on end as a girl. Like the color of the sea on the rare day that the sun shone above and she could see that the water was no longer grey.

"Fallon?" he said groggily and she placed her finger over her lips.

"It's still early," she whispered back, kneeling by his bed. He sat up, slowly at first as he groggily found his bearings.

"Is something wrong?" he asked even quieter this time and she shook her head.

"At least," she corrected. "I don't think so," she told him and handed him the bit of parchment. He took it in one hand as the other reached for a cup of what she assumed was stale water on his bedside table. His eyes looked over the words and his brow furrowed carefully. He must have read it a dozen times before looking back up at her, his gaze catching hers that had been lingering on the smooth moonlight color that stained his shoulders.

"I don't understand all of it," he said and she nodded, knowing he'd been trying since they'd met to learn a little bit of the old tongue. She told him it wasn't necessary, that all Skagosi spoke both the Old Tongue and the Common. But he'd insisted. But as he started at the words, she could see his months of practice weren't over. "_Winter village?_ And..._leader?_ Is this from one of your brothers?" he asked in confusion and she nodded with a secret grin as he strained with the translation.

"Broden wants you and I to meet him, this night, at the foot of the Winter village outside the castle," she explained and he seemed to consider it for a moment as he looked over the parchment once more before handing it back.

"What is the Lord of Kingshouse doing so far from your home? Why wouldn't he send Rowan...or..." he didn't finish but Fallon knew that he meant Aedan. She didn't acknowledge the annoyance in his trailing off and instead answered his question with one of her own.

"I can't be sure why Broden came all the way here, but I wonder what he could want with the both of us? He'd never leave Kingshouse unless something was wrong. We must meet him."

"Yes of course," he told her. "We'll leave after supper, I'll take you so the village and we'll meet this warlord brother of yours," he said with a grin that seemed to catch him off guard and he quickly hid it with the brim of his goblet as he sipped more water, cringing at the taste.

Fallon could see the tension returning between them. Since Robb had admitted his feelings for her, though still undefined feelings as of now, there had been little interaction between the two of them. She had noticed he was spending more time with Kathryn, tending to her need for attention. And that was okay with Fallon. Or at least it would have been had Robb been doing it for his own sake. But the only reason he insisted upon spending so much time listening to the younger girl's boring chatter was to show Fallon his feelings for her had ceased.

But she could tell from the way his eyes lingered on her lips just a moment too long, that it wasn't true.

She looked away, pretended not to notice the longing behind those blue eyes of his. Instead she stood and without so much as a look back in his direction, she walked out, shutting the door behind her. She leaned up against the stone wall and felt something in her chest fall at ease, though the feeling was a foreign one. Whatever it was, it was gone. And she was left standing there in the darkness of the corridors, with only a sense of dread creeping over her.

She'd feigned a sense of ease in the presence of Robb. But she knew if Broden had ridden all the way to Winterfell.

Something was very, very wrong.

* * *

**[Theon]**

"Missed again?! And here I thought you were getting better," Theon scoffed when she once again missed the target, making it her fifth straight miss since they'd started. "Did you switch bodies with Kathryn when I wasn't looking?" he joked and she grunted in frustration when she missed again.

"If I'd have switched bodies with Kathryn," she started as she pulled the next arrow back and looking down the length of it as she focused on the target. "You'd have noticed," she finished as he placed his arm over hers and lowered the bow slightly.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked, moving her thumb and forefinger into a tighter position against the arch of the bow. He was close behind her, he could feel his breath against her hair as he spoke. Neither thought anything of the proximity, it was necessary for her to get the practice. Nothing more.

"It means I'm not blind," she said, letting go of the bow and watched as it graze accross the range and into the upper right corner of the target. Again she groaned and Theon shook his head.

"You talk too much," he said, grabbing the bow from her and placing it on the ground. She frowned.

"I do no such thing," she said, insulted. "And don't be cross with me just because I've seen the way you look at her. You're lucky no one else has noticed."

"Practice your breathing," he instructed with a sour expression, ignoring her comment and she sighed.

"Not again..." she complained. "I know how to breathe."

"Then practice shutting that bloody trap of yours for a few moments and concentrate. I don't know where you're mind is today, but it certainly isn't on the target." She did as she was told, miming the actions of holding a bow and pulling back the arrow slowly. She breathed in slowly, balanced her arms and let go, several times as he watched and corrected as needed.

She might have thought she had a good facade, but Theon had noticed from the moment she'd snuck out of Robb's chambers this morning that something was amiss. There was only distraction behind those green eyes, more so than usual. Everyone could see the tension between Robb and Fallon was growing since their argument over a fortnight ago. However, this was different. The look of panic in her eyes as she walked out of the room was not simply due to Robb. It was something else.

Robb too had been exceedingly quiet, even turning down a hunting trip Theon had planned for the next few days. He had _responsibilities_ he'd said. Theon knew what responsibilities Robb was in charge of in his father's stead. What he didn't know, however, was what the two of them were hiding that they didn't want anyone to know about.

"Now," he said, handing her the bow and placing it back in her hands. "Clear your mind. Focus _only_ on the middle. You've got too much on your mind, it's why you keep missing them."

She didn't look at him, didn't nod her head in affirmation. She only stared straight towards the target and pulled back the arrow slowly, with caution. She corrected the stiffness in her arm, and then in her leading leg. It was three breaths before she released the arrow, the power behind it much more than the previous six. This one was almost dead center on the target some paces in front of them. Theon grinned.

"You see?"

"How ever do you carry around an ego as big as yours?" she joked as she handed him the bow once more.

"That takes some practice too," he said with a smirk and she shook her head.

"I should wash up before supper."

"Since when are you coming to supper?" he asked, unable to recall the last time he'd seen her in the hall for a proper dinner. Normally Enat just came down and brought her meals to her room or in Bran's.

"I am tired of playing the introvert. I could use the company," she said before walking off, leaving Theon with the bow in his hand.

He decided on a few practice shots for himself before he'd head in for supper. It wasn't difficult for him, he'd been a natural with a bow since he was a boy. Lord Stark had always praised his skills while his own sons watched and tried to mimic Theon with some difficulty.

Supper was early today, he noticed, still seeing the sun hanging in the sky. It would be a good two hours before sunset. Sunset was their usual cue that dinner was being served. But today, Robb had insisted earlier was better.

Theon walked into the dining hall to find a larger group than normal.

Fallon was sitting on the far end, picking at her food anxiously with Rickon at her side, telling her all about his day. Robb sat across from Kathryn, trying to stay focused on whatever nonsense she was most likely spouting.

Theon was probably the only person who knew how to deal with her. It was easy really, once he realized that all she wanted was attention. Everyone spent so much time trying to seem interested, but failed miserably. Theon knew that Kathryn didn't just want to be humored. In fact, he could see from the look on her face that she wasn't pleased with Robb's half-hazard attempts to listen to her. She wanted to be the center of attention, good or bad.

He didn't see a problem with that.

As he sat down next to Robb, Kathryn glanced over to him and rolled her eyes when he smiled at her. She pretended to ignore his presence altogether but he knew from her sideways glances that she was very aware of him watching her.

And from the small smile in the corner of her pretty mouth, it was obvious she liked the attention.

* * *

**[Robb]**

The night was quiet, too quiet for his liking. He could only hear the hooves of his horse on the damp ground, and his breath matched with Fallon's. He reached around her, the warmth of her body flush against his as he held onto the reins. Neither had spoken since they'd left Winterfell. Too much was lingering between them that Robb didn't even know where to start even if he did speak. He wasn't one for idle chatter, neither was she.

So there was only silence as they rode, and every so often she would adjust herself in the saddle and her hair would brush up against him, the smell of it like the flowers that grew in the godswood.

The edge of the village wasn't far from the castle. He'd ridden there many times in the last few days to work out on the estate's accounts. He'd have to meet with the people soon, his mother's absence in almost everything had left him in charge and debts needed to be paid. The royal visit had been an expensive one, and everyone was doing their best to preserve money lately.

The silence was becoming too much for Robb, all he wanted to do was hear Fallon's voice but he didn't want to resort to silly questions. So he asked the only one he could think of that he genuinely wanted to know the answer to.

"So what is this brother of yours like?" he asked in a quiet whisper and she turned her head over her shoulder slightly at the sound of his voice so near to her. He saw a faint smile.

"Stubborn," she said simply. "Whatever he wants with you, don't be afraid to stand your ground. Broden can be slightly intimidating, even to his own family members."

"I can't imagine he intimidates the mighty Fallon," he joked and she laughed slightly.

"You'd be right. I've always been closest to Rowan, we're so near in age. He and I get on the best out of all my siblings. But Broden and I are very similar. He doesn't like to be challenged. Unfortunately for him, I like to challenge him." Robb laughed at this. He liked to think of Fallon standing up to her older brothers with that expression she used against him. She wasn't like any girl he'd met in the North.

"And your sisters?" he asked curiously. "Are they as fierce as you are?"

"Gods no," she laughed. "Albertha is exactly the lady you'd expect from an elder sister. She married off well but will always do whatever it takes to please her husband. I met him once, Eustace Hunter. He's handsome enough to keep my sister happy. Elsbeth was much more practical. She didn't want a title, only a husband. My father tried for years to marry her off to one of the houses in Dorne but not many were open to the idea of a Skagosi bride. Even a beautiful one like Elsbeth. But that's nearly all she is, a beauty who wanted nothing more than to be a wife and a mother."

"You don't sound very fond of her," Robb said, frowning at Fallon's bitter words.

"Of course I'm fond of her," she said quickly. He could tell by the definitive answer that she was through talking about it. He didn't push. He knew that pushing Fallon only meant she'd push harder, and they were barely on talking terms as it was.

They came to a clearing, and Robb slowed the horse, looking around in the darkness for any sign of Broden. But he only saw the emptiness under the moonlight. He dismounted the horse, reaching his arms out to Fallon who reached out for his shoulders carefully and landed by his side, his hands still on her waist.

She looked up into his eyes for only a moment before he asked her to stay put while he took a look around. He looked back over his shoulder to see her standing there as he'd instructed and he stepped forward into the brush. When he didn't see anyone, he walked back into the clearing, just in time to see a figure place his hand over Fallon's mouth and waist. Robb moved without thinking, pulled his dagger from his hip and placed it against the man's throat.

"Unhand her or you die," he whispered harshly and the figure stiffened in surprise, unaware that Robb had closed in. Fallon was immediately released but her expression wasn't one of fear for herself she she turned quickly to Robb.

"No Robb!" she said quickly, trying to wedge herself between the two of them. Robb tried to hold her back as the figure unveiled his face from under his hood. Robb didn't need to ask to know whose green eyes looked back at him. The resemblance was clear. "It's Broden," she said quickly and he saw the features that matched her own, matched Rowan's.

"It's alright," the man said, not taking his eyes from Robb's.

Robb lowered his dagger, but did not put it away as Broden stood before him.

"I see you've kept my sister in good health," the man said, glancing at his sister who stepped into his arms. He kissed her forehead and held her close to his chest, closing his eyes as they embraced. The action was strange to Robb. He'd heard only of Broden's unyielding demeanor, never of his softer nature.

"Brother?" Fallon whispered curiously, pulling back and looking up at his face. Robb watched Broden's eyes dodge hers and look over Robb's shoulder. Robb turned to see a familiar face standing not far behind him, two horses in tow.

"Lonnie," the man whispered, his voice hard. Fallon spun around and Robb could see the recognition in her eyes even before she saw the man's face.

And she ran to him.

"Aedan," she said in a breathless whisper as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her against his chest. She wasted no time in pulling back and looking up at him with a look of such desperation that Robb felt a pang in his chest. "What's happened?" she asked him and Aedan held her face in his hands before glancing to Broden.

"Skagos was attacked," the Lord of Kingshouse said and Fallon's eyes widened.

"What do you mean attacked? Isn't the island already covered in civil war?" Robb asked, and Broden raised an eyebrow at his knowledge. Robb had made it a point to listen when Fallon spoke of the Skagosi land. Not much was known about the island so few Northmen dared to travel to. They were of the North as well, and yet so little facts were known. Only stories. Fallon had set him straight.

"Civil war, yes. But this was an invasion from the south. Westerosians," Broden continued looking at his sister.

The wind blew harshly then, her dark hair blowing around her but she stood there uncaring as she watched her brother's expression carefully. She trembled as she stood and all Robb wanted to do was hold her to keep her from what was coming next.

"Where is Corran?" Fallon asked quickly and Broden's eyes took several moments before they reached hers. "Broden where is Corran and Elsbeth and..." She could no longer speak as Broden's eyes seemed to confirm her worries. She began shaking her head instantly, turning back to Aedan. "Where is Elsbeth!" she shouted and Aedan pulled her struggling towards him. She was pushing at him angrily, the grief in her voice as she repeated her sister's name they'd spoke of only moments ago. Her hair blew around her wildly and the three men could only stand there, helpless.

"There was nothing we could do Lonnie," Aedan struggled to say and she slapped him hard accross the face.

"She was your _wife!" _she shouted and shoved him off of her with surprising strength. "You were supposed to protect her!"

"What do you want me to say!?" he pleaded with her but she escaped his grasp and walked back towards Robb, falling into his arms. He caught her easily, gripping her tightly against him as she sobbed into his chest. Both men watched as the woman they knew so well disregarded them both for the Northman.

Robb could see the tension in their eyes, the fury in Aedan's as Robb stroked her hair as she gasped and pleaded for air. He didn't care what they thought, only that Fallon was here and heartbroken. She had once again had her loved ones ripped from her and Robb was unable to do anything but hold her trembling body. He didn't have words that could comfort her, nothing he could say would cause her to smile this time. So instead, he asked the questions she couldn't.

"Rowan?" Robb asked, looking at Broden and he felt Fallon lift her head to listen as she cried for her family. He knew she'd be too scared to ask about this brother in particular. The brother who she'd loved so deeply

"He's went south," Broden said, his voice cracking slightly as he stepped forward, watching his sister in such pain. "For Albertha."

Broden placed his hand on Fallon's back, stroking it until she looked up at him with her tear-stained eyes. Robb watched as the man's face faltered slightly and his arms reached out for her. Fallon was slow to move, gripping Robb's tunic tightly in her fists. But eventually she let go. She could see her brother needed comfort just as much as she did.

"Why?" she continued to whisper over and over until her eyes looked up to the skies.. "Why not me instead?!" she shouted and Broden hushed her.

"Don't say that Lonnie," Aedan said, now standing at her side and reaching for his hand. She pulled it away at first, but he grabbed it again and this time she left it where it was. Robb suddenly felt very out of place. He had done his part but now this was between them, between a brother and his sister, between Aedan and the woman Robb could clearly see he loved.

Robb wasn't sure why that last thought bothered him so much. He shouldn't have minded. Of course Aedan loved her. How could he not? How could any man not love Fallon with everything inside of them?

It took a long while for her to calm her breathing, but eventually, she stood on her own, ignoring the harsh winds against her red eyes.

"What do we do now?" She asked sternly and Robb watched as Fallon did what she always did. She pushed away her pain, so far that she sounded cold to the situation, indifferent even.

"_We_ don't do anything," Broden replied. "You will go with your Lord Stark back to Winterfell. Aedan and I will go North."

"And what do you hope to find there?" she asked bitterly. "Father can't do anything now. He's taken the Black. He's no longer part of this family."

"He will always be part of this family," Broden corrected her and she shook her head.

"We have to fight back, find the bastards who murdered our family, took our home. We will strike them down with the fury of the Skagosi warriors." It was the first time Robb had heard her speak the way she was now. The pride in her voice no longer a story but a threat. She would do whatever it would take to protect her home and what was left of her family, even if she was forbidden to. So when Broden caught Robb's eye, he knew exactly what the man was asking of him, without words.

"It's better they talk to your father first," Robb explained and Fallon furrowed her brow as he spoke, shocked by his lack of support for her.

"Drystan knew something," Aedan said. "Whatever secret he kept, was enough to condemn him. Only Ned Stark saved his head." Fallon cringed at the thought.

"Whatever Father was framed for, they are killing the rest of us off to ensure the secret is hidden. The think we all know," Broden explained to her and she didn't move.

"I will talk to my bannermen, and send word to my father. He's in King's Landing. He must know something."

"I can't stay here," she whispered, glancing at Robb. "Not with my family being hunted down and slaughtered. I have to do something." He wanted to say something, to tell her she could go, that she was not his prisoner. But Broden interrupted him before he was weak enough to say so.

"Stark is the only one who can protect you," her brother insisted, cupping her face.

"I can protect myself," she muttered stubbornly and Robb could hear the reflection from the first day she had been in Winterfell. She'd said the same words to him. Now that was months ago, so long ago he barely remembered the way she looked at him with hatred in her eyes then.

"Of course you can," Broden said with a grin. "But Father chose you to live with the Starks for a reason."

She sighed heavily, letting the three men know she was unhappy.

"How will you find him?" she asked quickly. "You can't just waltz up to castle black and tell them to let you through."

"Who says we're going to castle black?" Broden replied and both Fallon and Robb looked at him curiously.

"You plan to sail there," she said, more as a statement than a question. Broden nodded.

"Why come here? Why not just send a raven and head North?" Robb questioned.

"I have sent ravens. I've sent several over the last months, as well as riders, but all went unanswered. I wasn't even sure if she'd show up here tonight." Fallon's brow furrowed, as did Robb's at the statement.

"What ravens?" she asked. "I only received the last. The one from early this morning." She then glanced to Robb. "Do you know anything about this?"

"Of course not," he said, feeling hurt that she'd even think he had anything to do with it. "When we return, I'll find out about the letters. I promise." He then turned to Broden. "From now on, address your letters to me. I'll ensure she gets them." The lord nodded.

The time had come, he noticed. It was in the way the men stood, shifting on the ground. But the darkness concealed Fallon's grief. She didn't want them to go, to let them out of her sight. But she must. So she walked to Broden, placing both of her hands on his chest as she craned her neck up at him. Broden responded by placing his hands over hers, rubbing her palms in his.

"Bidh curramach," she whispered to him and he smiled before placing his lips on her forehead, pulling her into a tight embrace. _Be careful_ she'd said. Robb recognized the words, the inflection.

"Be good," he replied, holding her out to Aedan. At first, Fallon went to pull away but Aedan wouldn't let her, holding her into his body. Robb wanted to turn away as Broden had, give them the privacy they deserved. But the longer he watched them, the more he saw the torment in Aedan's eyes.

Fallon finally looked up at the man who held her so tightly. Even the darkness couldn't hide the feelings in her eyes. He could see her confliction. This was the man she loved, but it was also the man who had married her sister, who had lost her sister. Her facade fell.

Aedan stroked her hair, held her face in his hands as he looked down at her helpless expression. There were tears in his eyes as well. It was several moments before he leaned in, placing his lips against hers. Robb turned then, unable to finish watching the intimate moment. It was none of his business, he thought. He glanced away, catching Broden's watchful gaze.

Robb wasn't sure what the glance meant, only that his aversion to the sight behind him didn't go unnoticed. He thought for a moment that the man would say something but it was then that he felt a cold hand over his. And for the first time, he realized his hands were balled into fists.

"Let's go," she said softly, staring up at him with a wary expression. He started at her for a long moment, taking in that glance that was meant for him. And then he nodded. They made their way towards Robb's horse, stopping next to it long enough for Robb to lift her onto it with ease. He then mounted it himself, positioning himself behind her and looking down at the men below.

"Take care of her Stark," Broden said and Robb simply nodded in affirmation that he would.

"Safe travels," he replied to them both, before urging his horse on. It was only a few miles back to Winterfell, but it seemed like a hundred as they sat there in silence.

Fallon never glanced back at the men who wished her farewell. She only sat there, her back against Robb's chest and he could still smell the flower scented oils in her hair. He wanted to speak now, even if it was idle talk. He just wanted to get the image out of his head of her lips on Aedan's. Anything would be better than the savage feeling deep within his chest. It went unnamed, the monster that crept up within him.

But there was nothing to say. No more comfort to be given. She was silent, no sobbs, no small cries. As the darkness overcame the night, the rode. Just the two of them on the path to Winterfell. Nothing to say, nothing to discuss. Only their breaths and the sound of hooves hitting the ground.

It wasn't long before he felt her begin to tremble, her hands shaking as she remained as composed as she could. She was fighting the feeling, the sorrow that was threatening to seep out at any moment. The small tremble became a large one, until most of her body was shaking. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He placed his hand over hers, gripping it tightly.

And slowly but surely, her shaking slowed to a tremble, and then the tremble died away. It was then that he started to pull his hand away, but she stopped him.

And their hands remained that way, entwined, until they reached Winterfell.


	7. Chapter 7

**Savages**

**A/N:**** I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, I know some of you thought it was heartbreaking, as it was intended to be. Fallon has a lot of feelings to work out, not just with the death of several of her siblings, but also with Aedan and now Robb as well. This chapter is kind of catching up with the story (I know it's been a bit slow). I used a few excerpts of dialogue (but not the corresponding actions which I altered) from the first novel. So all credit to the dialogue in that section goes to GRRM. Please enjoy and feel free to leave any comments or questions in the review box below! Thanks! xoLola.**

**Chapter Seven**

**[Kathryn]**

"Where is she?" Catelyn asked, causing Kathryn to turn her head as she rolled her eyes out of view. It was all anyone had asked for the last week. Where was Fallon? Was she alright? It was enough to drive Kathryn mad.

"She hasn't left the tower, Enat says it's Skagosi custom to mourn in solitude," Robb replied. Catelyn nodded.

"She's been fasting as well," Kathryn added. "Nasty business, that. She will be nothing but withered bones by the end of the mourning period."

No one said anything. It took her a long moment to realize why. As Robb stared at her with wide eyes she then realized she had probably offended Lady Stark, who had lost much weight in her own mourning period. In order to save the embarrassment she thought up something else to distract them.

"My father has written me from King's Landing," she told them and this time Catelyn perked slightly. Kathryn smiled. "He says when Lord Stark arrives he will plan several suppers with him, and the girls of course. I know Sansa will thrive in the South. It is such a wonderful climate for a flower like your daughter," she told the woman. Catelyn smiled slightly until glancing back to Bran. "He wishes you all well, and sends his prayers for Bran's health."

"Thank you Kathryn," Robb said sincerely. "That is very kind of your family."

"It is nothing surely, especially since our families will soon become one." Robb sighed at this comment, as Kathryn had expected he would. No one was very fond of speaking of the wedding as of late. She tried to remind them that was why she was here, stuck up in the North, to begin with.

But no one was in the mood for a wedding.

That was why Kathryn prayed for Bran's health, probably harder than anyone. She prayed to the Seven that he would get well soon and spare the heartache and mourning of the Stark family. She knew if Bran died, there would be no wedding, at least not for a long while. She was tired of waiting.

"Robb," she said sweetly. He looked over at her. "Would you be so kind as to take me for a walk outside. Today's the first time it hasn't rained in days." He hesitated for only a moment before smiling slightly and nodding.

Kathryn took his arm as they walked out of the room, leaving Bran and his mother in silence as they'd been for so long. It was a lovely afternoon, the sun finally shining above them. The grounds were still damp but it only gave her an excuse to lift her skirts a little higher to avoid the mud. A few times, she caught Robb glance at the exposed skin of her calf as he helped her over a fallen tree trunk.

"When do you think we will be wed?" she asked, not bothering to be subtle. She could tell the question surprised Robb. But that was when he was most honest. She could read him the best when he was caught off guard.

"I..." he started. "I am sure it won't be long, My Lady." It was a good enough answer for most girls. Most girls would have been comforted by Robb's optimism. But Kathryn wasn't like most girls.

"I think we shouldn't wait too long. I know your father will be busy in King's Landing. My father told me how demanding the lifestyle in the capital is. He might not be back to Winterfell for a year even."

"But won't you want your family here? For the wedding?"

"You're my family now," she said, the words tactically chosen. She could see the expression on his face, watched as he took in her words and grinned. It was a nice look on his face, one that was charming enough that she felt somewhat at ease. But she wouldn't be satisfied until Robb Stark said his vows to her.

"I am most happy to hear that you feel that way," he said, squeezing her hand lightly and she stepped closer to him. This spot would do, she thought as she placed her hand on his chest. He looked down at the small hand, decorated in ornate rings that rested on his tunic.

"You can kiss me if you'd like," she said, just as she had said the handful of other times to him. And he did as he always did. He thought for several moments before he leaned in and placed his lips over hers, his hand on her waist and his stubble against her face. She found it irritating, the feeling of stubble scratching her soft skin. She'd be sure he'd shave before she let him kiss her again.

They were nothing like Loras' kisses.

She'd kissed Loras Tyrell three times in her life. Three extraordinary kisses that would live on in her memory for a long while. They kept her thoughts occupied on the long days she spent in the solar, embroidering flowers on tunics to send back to the Reach for Loras. He usually sent letters in return, sometimes with lavish gifts. But lately, the letters had slowed to almost a halt.

Now all she had was Robb and his scratchy beard and clammy hands. She pulled hers away and brushed her golden hair behind her ear.

"I will be a great wife Robb, I promise you that," she told him as she leaned over and whispered in his ear. She then stepped away with a wide smile, looking back over her shoulder at him with a flirtatious smile.

She had chosen that spot for a reason.

She didn't have to look up at the tower to know they were in perfect view for wandering eyes to catch view of their small tryst. She knew that there would be eyes on the way she touched Robb's chest and toyed with his hair. Eyes would be watching closely as she leaned in and kissed Robb a second time. They wouldn't see her cringe from the stubble, only see their mouths touching easily and the smile on her face as she pulled away.

It would be very easy for the pair of green eyes, peering out the tower's window, to see that Kathryn was making a pretty loud statement with her actions.

Kathryn would be Lady of Winterfell one day. It was time people started realizing that she didn't play games. And when she did...

….she always won.

* * *

**[Catelyn]**

The sun had nearly set over the forest. The sky was erupting with lavish colors hanging in the clouds. She could see it out the small window and she wondered how many sunsets had passed now, how many she had missed.

The figure that sat at Bran's bedside also peering out the window, a gaze that Catelyn recognized very well, knowing what grief and sorrow felt like, therefore what it must look like. Fallon's frail form was concerning. She immediately inquired to her health as the girl entered the room some time earlier, but the question was merely brushed off with a humorous reply, Fallon's forte.

They had sat there, a long time, in silence, waiting for something to say to the other. But that something never came. They only watched Bran's chest fall and rise, and then watched the sun begin it's decent in the sky.

"He'd probably fancy a story," Catelyn said, her voice once again hoarse from lack of use. Fallon looked away from the window and over to Catelyn who tried her best to look as though she was trying to comfort the girl. She knew Fallon told stories to help Bran, to help Catelyn. But she also knew that they were told to comfort Fallon. Stories of home always helped Catelyn as well when she first moved to Winterfell. It was no different for the girl who was so far from home.

"I think I've run out of stories," Fallon said, her voice quiet, matching the frailty in her form, the black circles under her eyes.

"Try something more recent," Catelyn suggested. "Maybe you'll find some inspiration there."

Fallon looked unsure as she sat there, steadying her breaths to rise and fall with Bran's. Catelyn thought of saying something else to urge her but before she got a chance Fallon opened her mouth and began as she always did.

"It was long ago," she whispered, her voice already beginning to break. "There was a family who lived on the main island. They were a noble family, known all throughout the land for their honor and courage. Men feared the Magnar, fore he was the hand to unite the tribes, the warrior who had struck down the rogue clans in the last winter battle."

She paused, pulling a rag from a bowl of lukewarm water and ringing it out before placing it on Bran's face. She wiped him down, cleaned his neck and his ears, then his chest and his hands as she spoke.

"The Magnar had seven children, a very blessed number in Skagosi customs. He had four great sons to carry on the Magnar name, and three lovely daughters who would bring honor to their house as well.

"One day, the youngest daughter ran through the halls, searching for her mother who was hidden away in the bedchamber. She could hear the screams of her mother, the labored shouts and waves of fury. The sound frightened her. The daughter was just a child you see, only four years since her first name day.

"When she finally found the chamber she peeked through the doors to find a new set of cries, a cry of innocence entering the world in the form of her new baby brother. He was a fine child, strong features of the Mangar, her mother had said. The child was a mess, damp and sticky, something the girl thought she'd rather not see.

"But her mother called her forward, had her sit upon the bed as she held the child in her arms. The young girl looked down at the boy who was to be her brother and then stared back up at her mother. 'What is he to be called,' she asked her mother who smiled. 'We will call him, Corran.'" Fallon paused as she grabbed Bran's hand in hers, fighting back the tears Catelyn could see hanging in her eyes.

"Corran would grow to be a magnificent child. One day, the girl took Corran on an adventure. They traveled through the mountains on horseback for nearly a fortnight together, tracking wild boars. It was Corran's first hunt, and the brothers of the Magnar had entrusted the girl to oversee his first kill.

"It was the twelfth night of the hunt before Corran had found his prize beast. The girl watched as he pulled back the bow on the back of the horse, his elbow high, just as their brother had taught him. The girl had never been a good archer, her talent only lie in the sword and the spear. But as Corran reached back his arrow, ready to be let loose, she knew he would make the kill. And he did.

"But they weren't the only ones trying to claim their prize. The girl had dismounted with a smile on her face as they approached the carcass and that's when another beast appeared in the clearing. Skagos is teeming with wild boar in the forests. But the island is also full of bears. The girl had never come across a bear in her life. She had only heard stories of the beasts that stood taller than most men.

"This day she would see the first. It was a large bear, full grown with sharp teeth and long claws. She was standing between it and the boar. The smell of it's death drove the bear to craze. She didn't have time to pull her sword as the bear swatted her to the ground like a battering ram. She could feel the bones snape from the force but the bear was not through with her yet. Her only chance was to escape, and to lead the bear away from her young brother.

"She reached for her sword, pulling it from it's sheath and lifting it high. But as she brought it down, it only angered the bear more. Her sword was lodged deep in the bear's chest but it kept forward, swiping at her as she rolled quickly out of the way. But she could only crawl away for so long before the bear caught up, pressed it's large clawed paw against her chest, pinning her to the ground. She had come to her end, she knew it would be now as the bear pulled it's other paw into the air.

"But it never struck her, much to her surprise. One minute she was welcoming death, the next, an arrow shot straight through the beast's eye. It stumbled backwards until it fell, landing on the ground with a loud thump, from just a single blow.

"The girl looked to see where the arrow had come from, and from atop his horse, she saw Corran sitting there with his bow in his hand. He had saved her life from the bear's clutches."

Catelyn could see Fallon meant to continue, but she paused for a long while as she tried to hide the tears falling down her cheeks. She placed Bran's hand against her face as she sobbed. Catelyn could feel the tears welling up inside her now, as she watched Fallon's pain. But she had no words to comfort the girl. What could she say that would ease the girl's sorrow? When she herself was feeling the same sense of sorrow and dread deep down within her as well. There was nothing that could be said to her, and there was nothing she, in turn, could say to Fallon that would bring her family back.

Fallon kissed the boy's hand before placing it back on his stomach and standing from her spot and walking out the door before saying another word. She didn't so much as glance in Catelyn's direction as she rushed out. She only heard a muffled 'I'm sorry' from the hall and then Robb's voice quickly followed. But there was no reply, at least not one that Catelyn could hear. Instead Maester Luwin and Robb entered the room, the latter of the two looking at his mother curiously. She could only shake her head.

"Let her grieve," she whispered, ignoring the fact that the Maester carried the account books in his hand. He'd want to talk about the accounts, about the figures that they'd spent since the Royal Visit. But she had no interest.

"My lady," he argued when she asked him to take the books away. "The king's party had healthy appetites. We must replenish our stores before-"

"I said take the books away. The steward will attend to our needs." She was in no mood. After seeing Fallon so full of sorrow and pain, more pain than any young girl should face, and then with Bran lying here, still closed off from the world. There was nothing she wanted to see that wasn't her son's eyes opening and his health returned.

"We have no steward," the Maester replied. "Poole went south to establish Lord Eddard's household at King's Landing." She remembered. Of course she remembered. But why was this important, why did she need to know this now? Did they not see she was needed here?

"There are several appointments that require your immediate attention, my lady. Besides the steward, we need a captain of the guards to fill Jory's place, a new master of horse-"

"A master of horse?!" she said harshly. "My son lies here broken and dying, Luwin and you wish to discuss a new master of horse?"

"Yes my lady, but the appointments-"

"I'll make the appointments," Robb replied. "We'll go over them in the morning." The Maester nodded.

"Very good, My Lord," he replied before exiting the room, just as quickly as Fallon had.

Once the door was closed behind him, Robb glanced towards Catelyn with a look of disappointment and confusion. She knew he was upset, but she hadn't been in the right mindset to be concerned about that now. All her energy was in one place, and that was here with her little boy.

"Mother," he said. "What are you doing?"

She didn't want to argue. She didn't care for upsetting her children, which was what the expression on Robb's hard face read now. But as she began to explain her point, things got heated between them. Robb tried to tell her that she was neglecting everyone else but Catelyn simply didn't agree. Bran needed her of course. What more could she do when all her efforts were needed here.

"I can't leave him," she added to her long list of reasoning. "even for a moment, not when any moment could be his last. I have to be with him, if...if..." She took Bran's hand in her own, fighting tears just as Fallon had not long before her. She could still feel the girl's tears on Bran's soft skin and it only made her stomach sink lower as she cried.

"He's not going to die, Mother," Robb said softly. She liked his voice much better that way. It was kinder, and understanding.

"What if Maester Luwin is wrong," she said with a strained voice. "What if Bran needs me and I'm not here?"

"Rickon needs you!" he said, this time, his voice raised. "He doesn't understand what's happening. He follows me around all day, clutching my leg and crying. I don't know what to do with him. Mother, I need you too. I"m trying but I can't...I can't do it all by myself."

Catelyn wanted to go to him. To hold him in her arms just as he would when he was a child. She had forgotten he was still young. He may have been a man now, but eighteen was still very young to have so much responsibility thrust on him so quickly. But she couldn't move. Bran needed her, she couldn't leave his side. Not until he woke up.

Outside the sound of the direwolves howling was growing louder. It was a mournful sound. She heard them often, yipping and barking outside on the grounds. But now the sound was overwhelming, distracting. It didn't comfort her, only frustrated her as she sat there, trembling with grief with her eldest son pleading with her in one corner and her next son broken and helpless in the other. She couldn't think.

"Make them stop!" she shouted wildly, covering her ears. "I can't stand it , make them stop, make them stop!"

Robb walked over to the window reluctantly, pulling one side closed as he stared out mindlessly, listening to the howls of Grey Wind, Summer and Shaggydog. But as he started to pull the other half closed he paused and Catelyn saw him staring off into the distance, his expression changing from frustration to fear.

"Fire," he said in a desperate whisper. It was his voice that shook, just as her hands did when she heard him speak the words. She immediately stood, tried to figure out how they would move Bran from his bed without bending him. But Robb stopped her. "Not here, in the Library Tower!" he shouted then and Catelyn's weary mind could not comprehend his urgency. He seemed to understand her confusion as he started to run accross the room. "Fallon's rooms!" he explained and Catelyn now seemed to understand. "Stay here," he commanded but Catelyn had no intention of leaving.

She was on one hand worried for Fallon, praying that the girl had not fled back to her chamber after she left this room. But on the other she was thankful it was in no danger to Bran. The fire would never reach the Keep of rooms. They would be safe. She only now how to pray for Fallon.

As she turned from the window, watching the smoke rise above the tower, she saw a figure that wasn't there before. A man.

"You weren't s'posed to be here," he muttered sourly. "No one was s'posed to be here."

* * *

**[Fallon]**

Heat.

It was the only thing she could feel on the outside. The inside was pure fear.

She had been lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when she began to smell the smoke. It was coming from outside her door, from down the stairwell in the Library perhaps. She had already pulled out of her dress, leaving her in a dressing gown and the robe that she'd wrapped around her. She had planned to retire for the night, ignoring the sound of her aching stomach.

But the smell had distracted her from her plans. And then quickly the sound of something rushing through her window was heard followed by a bring flash against the stone wall. Her curtains were the first to go up in the flames, the next was the vanity. She pulled the water from her washbowl, and splashed it against her curtains. It didn't do much but cause a bit of steam to sizzle against her skin, scalding her flesh slightly.

She tried to pull the curtains down but they could not extinguish the fire that had already began to rage around the room. She smothered what she could with her thin robe, but had nothing else to put out the rest. So she fled. She ran towards the door, and pulled at the handle, only to find it snug in place. The door was locked, she thought. Why was it locked? She pulled harder, to no avail, finding herself trapped in the tower that only she was housed in.

She began pounding on the door, shouting in the rare chance that someone could hear. The fire was large now, the smoke filling the room. She covered her face with her arm that was bare, the thin garb of her nightgown unfit to guard her lungs from the thick substance that caused her to cough.

No one would hear her up here, she realized, searching to room. Her eyes fell upon a chair, the only thing that might be strong enough to beat down the door. She lifted it quickly, squinting through the smoky room. Her eyes began to burn as she lifted the chair and hit it with all her strength against the door. Three times she hit it, then four, then five. The door didn't budge.

"Help!" she shouted again, through her coughs. She was helpless, weak, unable to save herself as she'd done so many times before. "Help!" she shouted again, this time her voice unable to reach it's normal range as she inhaled too much smoke and fell to her knees in a coughing fit.

The floor was cooler, but not by much. Still the smoke worked slowly to smother her from air. Her lungs burned from the ashy substance and she cringed with every breath. She repeated her cry until she started to feel the heat growing stronger on her back. She didn't dare look behind her, she didn't want to see how close she was to death. If she was to perish now, she thought, let it be swift.

Something made her think of her story right then, the way the bear looked down at her with lust or her flesh, the way she welcome death should that be the gods' will. But now, as the fire burn hot, she felt a sudden urge to live. She did not want to die. She was not ready to die. Despite the aching she'd felt in her heart over the last few days, something was holding her to this world and she was not ready to give up without a fight.

So she stood to her feet, holding on to the door as she lifted herself upright. And she pounded her fists against the door. She wasn't sure how long she did this. She lost track of how many times her fists pushed themselves into the wooden door. She could feel the skin become raw from the impact and then she felt them begin to bleed slightly, the force leaving scratches against her flesh.

"Fallon!" she heard and it sounded like a dream. A voice that had plagued her thoughts, the voice so divine that the gods must have sent it to distract her from the pain. "Fallon! Are you in there!?" It said, calling to her again. She furrowed her brow, coming to the realization that the voice was on the other side of the door. "Fallon, answer me!" the voice yelled frantically. It was a tone she hadn't heard before, not in his voice. She tried to pinpoint the emotion that caused the words to sound the way the did. Panic? Desperation? Fear? Perhaps all of them, she couldn't be sure.

"Robb?" she whispered. But it was barely a whisper. her voice was barely audible over the roar of the fire, over Robb's pounding on the door. She placed her head against the wood, hitting the door with the palm of her hand with what little strength she had left.

"D'ya hear that?" another voice asked. "That rapping against the door?" It was Theon, it wasn't hard to pick out his voice. She tried tapping again, coughing heavily as she did so.

"I hear her," Robb said to Theon. Yes, she wanted to say, I'm here. But she could barely speak, her breaths turning into gasps. "Stand back if you can hear me love," he said and Fallon pulled herself across the floor until she was out of range. She could hear their footsteps fading slightly and she wanted to yell for them to come back.

The fire was closing in now, she had nowhere to run, even if she could get up onto her feet. Her bleeding hands shook from the pain, her eyes burned from the smoke. Delirium continued to set in on her mind as the room began to spin around on an invisible axis. It was too late, she thought, tears falling down her cheeks. She wasn't sure if the tears were from the smoke or from the dread she felt now. She wanted to hold on but she was being ripped away so forcefully.

She closed her eyes as the tears fell, the sound of the fire raging around her began to fade. Her mind was succumbing to the nothingness beyond and she barely heard the noise of something that should have been loud. She couldn't quite hear if it was the door or the fire. Whatever it was it made way for shouting.

Many shouts. Possibly her name? She couldn't tell.

The only thing she could concentrate on was the feeling of a cool touch against her skin, pulling her up into some sort of embrace. She opened her eyes against the smoke to see the figure, his silhouette outlined through the smoke. She didn't need to see his face to know who's strong arms were wrapping her up across his chest.

She felt her head fall against his shoulder as they moved. Gradually the heat lessened and lessened but all she felt was the skin of his neck against her forehead, his calloused hands through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

She lost track of time as the fled, only awoke to the feeling of something cold against her back as he laid her flat. Grass, she thought. The cool dampness of the night grass was against her skin, her skin that was damp with sweat from her own exertion, or perhaps Robb's.

"Fallon," she heard, again her name in a desperate whisper as hands brushed damp locks of hair from her face. "Theon fetch the Maester."

"What's wrong with her?!" a small cry let out and her fingers instinctively reached out the to childlike whimper. Small fingers grasped hers quickly and she tried to open her eyes despite the scorching pain.

"Rickon, go inside with Enat," Robb ordered but Fallon squeezed feebily against the small hand in her own.

"No," she tried to say, but it came out nearly silence from her dried throat and she began coughing violently. She could see now, as Robb bent down to help her sit up, Rickon sat by with tears in his eyes. She was sitting up, half against Robb's chest as she pulled the small boy towards her.

"Easy there, easy..." Robb warned and she could feel the spinning return. Rickon placed his arms around her neck and Fallon held her fingers to his hair as she kissed his head with her dry lips. When the child pulled away Robb shifted her so she was looking at him.

His eyes were frantic as he searched her face, then her neck and arms and finally her hands. He frowned at the sight of the red stickiness. But she didn't feel the pain anymore, not from her hands at least. All she could feel was the searing in her throat that was still overshadowed by relief as she looked into Robb's ocean eyes. They were damp, she noticed, perhaps from the heat, from perspiration. They were red with irritation too, she thought

He was still searching over her exposed form when she placed her hand in his hair, feeling his curls caress her fingertips. At the sensation Robb glanced up at her, their eyes meeting in a moment of intensity that rivaled that of the blaze that ravaged through the library tower. There was something about the way he gazed down at her, the way he held her so delicately, the way his skin felt against hers. Something about it caused her to feel safe there, so safe that she didn't want to move.

But she felt her body weakening, the last of the heightened adrenaline fading quickly from her system. Her eyelids fell heavy and her muscles melted. She leaned in to speak and their foreheads touched. She felt her cheeks flush slightly at the contact. She fought to keep her eyes open as she brought her hand from his hair to his cheek and he pulled her tighter against him, securing her as she dissolved into darkness. But before she faded completely, she mustered up enough strength to whisper a few words as she stared into his eyes.

"Mo Slanaighear," she whispered hoarsly. "Mo Faoil."

It was then that she succumbed to the darkness behind her eyes and the whispered words in the Old Tongue faded from her mind.

* * *

**A/N: So there is chapter 7. I hope you enjoyed it. I was trying to stick with the story a bit so I could get it moving along after that. I tried to stay as close to canon as possible while still adding in Fallon to that same plot. Let me know what you think! xoLola**


	8. Chapter 8

**Savages**

**By LolaStark**

**A/N: It's been a while, I know. No excuses from me. Let's just get back into the story. xoLola **

**Chapter Eight**

**[Robb]**

It was nearly a fortnight before Fallon opened her eyes. By then, Bran was already awake - a miracle - and his mother was long gone on her quest towards King's Landing. Looking over at her frail form was only a sickly reminder of what the Lannisters had done. They had locked her in the tower and set it on fire, planned to murder his brother to keep the both of them quiet.

When his mother called a secret meeting, her hands bandaged from the attacker's blade, she had made a very convincing argument against the Lannisters. Why they had shoved Bran from atop the large tower, he still didn't know. But another mystery that remained, was why had Fallon been a target as well? Had she seen something that she hadn't told Robb? Or did it have something to do with her siblings murders in Skagos.

Robb was watching her from across the courtyard. She was sitting near the small pond with a book in her hands, but he could see she wasn't reading it. Her mind was in another place, most likely with her brothers. Her hair blew lightly in the wind causing her to brush strands of it away from her face when needed.

"She cares for you," Enat said, filling the silence. Robb looked next to him where Enat was now standing. "I thought you should know that."

"I'm not sure I agree. She told me..." he started but she shook her head.

"Fallon says a lot of things," Enat told her, staring towards her friend. "She can be a bit too self-sacrificing at times. Ever since she was a child. She puts her family before everything, including her own feelings."

"I saw her with him," he whispered. "With Aedan."

"I saw her with you," she replied and he furrowed his brow. "And I heard what she said to you, the night of the fire."

Robb recalled the moment Fallon had looked into her eyes and whispered the words in the Old Tongue that he couldn't understand. But Enat had been there, so of course she would have heard them. Robb had been filled with curiosity since that moment and now as Enat spoke he listened carefully.

"Mo Slanaighear," she whispered but it sounded different coming off her lips than it had from Fallon's. "It means 'my savior' and 'Mo Faol' means," she started and smiled as she looked up at him. "My wolf."

He remembered Fallon's words, how she'd spoken them, the whisper so intimate as if it had been intended for his ears only. Perhaps it had been. But since she'd awoken, they hadn't spoke of that night. He wasn't even sure if she remembered. To her it could have simply been a dream, something conjured under a state of delirium. Something better left forgotten.

"Has she told you how she met him? My brother?" Enat asked him and he shook his head.

All Robb knew of Aedan was what he had gleaned from Fallon's longing glances. It was clear she loved him, even if what Enat was saying about her was true. Fallon may have feelings for Robb, but her feelings for him were muddled and confused. Her feelings for Aedan were clear. Love.

"I've known Fallon since we were children," Enat began, with the same fondness that Fallon had in her voice when she talked of home. "My father was one of Drystan Magnar's most trusted men. He sent me to Kingshouse to live with Fallon and her sisters when I was twelve. I got along with Fallon easily, as you might imagine. She was enchanting, even as a child. So full of passion for life. When I was sixteen, Fallon and I went riding along the Moors. She was only thirteen, already a better rider than any girl I'd ever met. We'd been gone only a few hours when the storms came out of nowhere, the dark clouds pushing down upon us, the rain hard against our skin. I insisted we go back to the castle, that it was too cold and we'd catch our deaths." Robb smiled.

"But she refused?" he asked and Enat nodded.

"She said she the rain would pass, that we should carry on," Enat said, mirroring Fallon's voice quietly.

"But something happened," Robb surmised.

"Yes, the rain was so thick neither of us could see, I warned her that the terrain was unsturdy. But you know her, she was determined. She urged her horse over the rocks until she slipped. The horse fell back and Fallon with it. Neither of us saw how close we were to the river."

Robb tried to imagine a young Fallon, her stubbornness leading her into another dangerous situation like many of her stories depicted. But reckless didn't seem like her at all. Especially when it came to her horse. Robb knew that Fallon valued her horse's life over her own.

"She and the horse were in the water, the strong flow causing them both to struggle as the current dragged them further downstream. Fallon can swim of course, but the water in Skagos is beyond cold, the rain was hard, I could barely see her, only hear her shouts," Enat said, looking off towards Fallon now sitting so far from them, the fear in her eyes as she relived the memory. "It was fate, that brought the riders. I heard the hooves of their horses against the rocks over Fallon's shouts. I thought it was tribesmen, they would have taken us both hostage if they found us there. So I pulled my knife from my boot and waited for them to appear. Only when they did, I saw it was Rowan and Aedan. I didn't recognize him at first, I hadn't seen him nearly four years. But that day they happened to be riding by and heard Fallon's screams."

"So he saved her," Robb said and Enat laughed.

"No, Rowan saved her," she answered. "Aedan saved her horse, something that meant a great deal more to her than her own saving. The current was too strong for her to save the mare herself so when Aedan reached in he was able to bring the horse back to shore while Rowan grabbed Fallon."

"How can any man compete with that?" Robb joked and Enat laughed.

"Yes well interestingly enough, while Fallon was beyond thankful to him, she didn't much give him the time of day after that. But for my brother," Enat said with a fond grin. "I think he loved her from the moment he set eyes on her. He never let her out of his sight once he moved to Kingshouse, knowing she was far too good at getting herself into trouble."

"It seems some things don't change," Robb whispered. "What happened, why didn't he marry her?"

Enat looked away from Robb's gaze momentarily and he could tell she was contemplating being as evasive as Fallon had been. It was a legitimate question, one he'd asked Fallon only to receive an evasive answer in return. It was clear that they loved each other, at least it was clear to him. So why hadn't they married when they had the chance, given Fallon an opportunity to be happy?

"I remember the day Aedan told my father he was going to marry Fallon. Of course he said it many times before and we all thought this time was no different. But he said this time, Fallon had agreed. We were happy for them both, though of course I'd never seen them together. But then the savages to the North came, the Skagosi tribesmen were brutal and killed many of the Magnar's men. But Aedan saved his life in battle, the Magnar was nearly killed. As a reward he was offered Elsbeth's hand. It was a great honor. But he loved Fallon. He wanted to refuse."

"But he didn't?"

"He never told me what happened, but one afternoon he came home and he'd decided to marry Elsbeth. I asked him why he would do that to Fallon, but he said it was because she didn't love him. And he believed her."

"She lied."

"Most definitely," Enat agreed. "She would never put her happiness above that of her family. If he didn't marry Elsbeth, not only would Drystan have been insulted, but he would have never agreed to marry him to Fallon instead."

"But why?" Robb asked. He didn't understand why Drystan Magar wouldn't want his youngest daughter to marry one of his best warriors. It was a common enough thing in the North on Westeros. The Skagosi were not much different than them in most of their customs.

"Did she not tell you?" Enat asked, furrowing her brow. Robb didn't even understand the question so he shook his head assuming that not knowing what she was referring to was answer enough. "Hundreds of years ago, when the Magnar still ruled Skagos, before the King of Westeros conquered the island, a series of games would be held upon the sixteenth birthday of one of his daughters. The winner of the games would earn her hand."

"Why not the eldest?" Robb asked, thinking of older Northern traditions that sounded similar.

"The order of birth didn't determine which daughter would be chosen for the games," Enat explained. "The one chosen is the daughter of Skagos, 'the Nighean', meant only to marry the best man in the land...she was the prize of the Magnar, said to have derived the wisdom of all her siblings. She was honored by getting to choose the strongest warrior for her groom. Winning her hand meant the warrior was the strongest and bravest of them all. Fallon is the youngest daughter of Drystan Magnar but he knew since she was a child that she would be Nighean. He would have never married her to Aedan unless he won her hand in the games."

"The games are still practiced?" Robb asked.

"Traditionally, yes. Drystan's father held the games to wed his second daughter and, in turn, when Fallon turned sixteen, she was meant to do the same. But it was at the same time as Drystan's trip to Westeros, and something happened that delayed the games. Whatever it was nearly cost him his life. A year later, your father spared him and Fallon was sent to live under your father's care. Now Fallon will never choose her own husband, a right that has not been taken away from the Nighean of Magnar for centuries."

"She said she was pledged to Aedan, even though they could never be together," Robb explained, taking in Enat's story. "She would have married against her heart regardless."

"I sense that as long as she rejects her heart, that will always be her fate," Enat replied, standing.

Her fire-red hair was alight in the sunlight that burned through the clouds and Robb was reminded of her brother. She was beautiful, but also strong and Robb could see why Jon had been so fond of her before his departure to the wall. The two had spent a lot of time together though it had been Fallon who had pointed it out. Robb had been oblivious until then.

"You say she cares for me, but she spends an awful lot of time convincing me she doesn't, Robb whispered and Enat grinned slightly.

"She wants to protect you, to ensure you honor your betrothal," she explained and to Robb it made sense. It was something Fallon would do, sacrifice her feelings if it meant he did his duty.

"Then why tell me this?" he asked her. "Why not let me keep believing she didn't care?"

"When she said those words to you, in the Old Tongue...the way she said them. I couldn't let you keep believing her lie. The information is yours to do with as you will, but if you let her keep believing the lie as well...she'll be consumed by it."

And with those last words she left him sitting there as she returned to the castle. Robb sat there for a while longer, watching as Fallon closed her book and set it next to her. She didn't move though, continued to stare off at nothing in particular and Robb wished he could know her thoughts, wished to help her with whatever burden she was bearing. But the longer he sat there, the more he thought about Enat's words. She wanted to protect him so she kept her distance. She wanted this.

And now it was Robb's task to decide what exactly it was that he wanted.

* * *

**[Fallon]**

Time was at a halt.

She felt the weariness of each passing day, the muted tone of the morning hours that then remained until the night had fallen upon Winterfell. Each part of her ached, both physically and emotionally. She felt broken but unsure of how to fix it.

Death had consumed her, leaving this shell behind in it's place. She should have died, she decided. She should have burned to death in that fire, a just punishment for her poor judgement, for her failure to honor her promise to Lord Stark. Punishment for her jealousy over her sister, over her disdain for Kathryn. She deserved death, and yet now she was being punished instead with life.

The numbness had been replaced by the aches of her broken body, her healing wounds on the outside unable to reflect the damage that was done within her. Elsbeth, Corran, Keeran, all taken from her. Albertha's fate was still unknown as Rowan's raven had not yet come and Broden was on a suicide mission to find their father, with only Aedan as his companion.

Aedan.

The name caused a new ache to rise within her, an ache of unknown origin. When Aedan had left her so many months ago, that early morning at Winterfell's gates, she'd been wounded, like an arrow through the heart. He'd seen it in her eyes then because she was unable to hide it any longer from him. But now, the ache was something different. Disappointment was part of it. She would never know if he mourned Elsbeth as a husband should mourn his wife. She would never know if he rejoiced that his burden was finally lifted. It as all sickening, but unwarranted, which made her even sicker when she realized she was painting Aedan as a villain.

She still loved him. She knew that much. But that love was so quiet in the back of her mind as of late, she found herself straining to remember the things she loved about him. Even now as she pictured his eyes she found the piercing gaze replaced with another, which was a completely separate distraction all together.

It was enough to drive her mad.

She rested her head on her knees as she sat beneath the weirwood, hoping for wisdom or answers, or something to rid her of the cloud that was consuming her. It had been three weeks since the fire and she still felt the flames on her face, the smoke in her lungs. All of it suffocating her to the point where she could hardly be around anyone for longer than a few moments at a time.

"Take me," she whispered into the fabric of her dress, begging the gods. "Or show me how I am to rid myself of this despair."

"I usually find that despair is often rectified at the bottom of one's wine cup," a voice said, familiar in the wit that fell from it.

It was the half-man Lannister, and through the laws of hospitality, Robb's guest at Winterfell. She had seen him arrive just a day prior, his grin just as wide as it had been the day she'd seen him with two whores on his arm over a month ago. The thought only made her frown.

"I did not ask for company," she said, without looking up at him.

"Company does not always seek permission," he replied, leaning up against the tree, forcing her to see him face to face.

"What is it you want Lord Tyrion," she asked, trying her best not to voice the frustration she currently felt.

"Why is it that everyone always asks me that?" he asked, a mock expression of hurt appearing on his distorted features and she stood to leave. "It was Lady Ashford, that brought me here."

"What does she want then?" she asked bitterly, thinking of Kathryn who had, since Lady Catelyn's departure, found it upon herself to begin ordering everyone about, including Fallon.

"Not what she wants that sent me here. It was more of what she said," he replied. "She doesn't speak very highly of you, does she?"

"She isn't fond of Skaggs or had you not noticed?" she said with disgust.

"I find her stories of you lacking."

"Lacking what?" she asked, frustrated.

"Lacking truth mostly. They seem to conflict with young Brandon's portrayal," he explained. "He speaks very affectionately of you. Lucky to be speaking at all though."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Only that he is lucky he survived such a tragic fall," Tyrion said, defending his previous statement. She frowned at it's implications.

"Lord Stark will be looking for me," she said, trying to excuse herself back towards the castle. Of course Robb would actually be much too preoccupied to be looking for her, but the Lannister didn't know that.

"I imagine he spends a great deal of time looking after you," Tyrion mused, almost to himself. Her steps paused and she turned to see him shrug.

"Did you come here to make conversation regarding your observations of everyone at Winterfell, if so I think we'll miss supper and dessert," she said with a bite in her tone. At this he smiled.

"Actually I came to see why it is that everyone at Winterfell seems to have a passionate opinion of you, good or bad you seem to be quite the spark of conversation. I think it's easy to see why."

"I'd rather be invisible," she admitted. "So that they could all get on about their business and stop wondering if I'm going to throw myself from the tower."

"Are you?" Tyrion asked and Fallon felt her lips threatening to lift at the edges for the first time in weeks.

"It might have seemed like a good idea once, but it doesn't seem very effective at ending life," she said, the joke a bit harsh, especially since Bran had only been awake a couple weeks. But Tyrion seemed to find nothing ill-humored about it as he chuckled heartily.

"Yes, you might want to find a taller tower, or visit the Wall. I've been up there, it's probably tall enough to do the deed," he said.

"The Wall?" she asked curiously. "You were at Castle Black?"

"Yes, but only for a short stay, thank the gods. There was a severe lack in female company to be found," he told her.

"Did you see..." she started and then stopped herself. Why should she trust a Lannister, she thought. He was just as much a Lannister as the rest of them, the whole lot of them only good for bleeding money out of their enemies.

"Did I see..." he echoed but she didn't finish her sentence. "...your father?" Fallon's eyes darted up to him. "Yes, I saw Drystan Magnar, however briefly."

"Was he..." she started, thinking of what she wanted to know about him but next to nothing came to mind. "Is he well?" she opted to say.

"Looked well enough for a man in all black. He's a large man, your father. Wittier than the rest of them, I'll give him that," Tyrion said and she thought of her father's laugh. He had always been keen to laugh when she'd tell him a joke.

"You said briefly, was he not staying?"

"He's a ranger now, or so they said," he explained. "I imagine he's off scouting beyond the Wall, hacking off wildlings as he sees fit."

"Fallon!" a loud voice said causing them both to look up and see Theon standing nearby with a frown on his face. "What are you doing?"

Fallon looked from Theon to Tyrion and back to Theon slowly, in confusion.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked. "I'm speaking with Lord Tyrion."

"Well you shouldn't be," he hissed through his clenched teeth and she frowned in confusion. "Robb's summoned us for supper."

She wasn't sure if it was the way he said it that made her step towards him, but whatever it was about his message from Robb said much more than he wanted her to join them for food. Tyrion of course would join, which was why he hadn't just come out and said what Robb had really instructed him to tell her. Regardless, she nodded and followed, Tyrion close behind.

They entered the hall at the same time Hodor was carrying Bran to the table. She caught his eye and he looked at her with a longing glance that she'd seen so many times in the last week. She'd been avoiding him, in her mourning period and it wasn't fair to him that she was doing so. She just found it so difficult to look into his eyes when they reminded her so much of Corran's.

Robb was clearly missing, the space next to Kathryn empty. Fallon saw the girl's eyes look up as she entered, but they weren't on her, they were on Theon. She was careful to look away quickly, brushing a blond curl from her face and straightening her back to a more poised posture. Fallon looked to Theon who nodded towards the door in the corner and she excused herself from Tyrion Lannister's presence to make her towards it.

She pushed the heavy door open and closed it quickly behind her when she saw Robb standing there, his head turned as he noticed her presence. She immediately looked into his eyes to assess what she could from them.

"What has happened?" she asked him and he stepped towards her with a piece of parchment in his hands.

"I received a letter, from your brother," he told her, placing the paper in her hands. She noticed it hadn't been opened. She was about to ask which brother when she recognized the writing and quickly broke the seal. Her eyes passed quickly over the letters, written in the Old Tongue as she expected they'd be.

"It's from Rowan isn't it?" he asked her when she smiled and she looked up and nodded, sighing in relief.

"He's safe, as is my sister," she explained. "He says that after he took Albertha, he received word that that there was a fire at Longbow Hall, similar to the one here. Lord Hunter and my sister's husband were not harmed but they believe the attack was directed towards my sister."

"Where are they now?" Robb asked and she continued reading.

"They took my brother's ship to White Harbor," she said, relieved. "And they..." she paused and looked up at him.

"They what?"

"Rowan requests your permission to come to Winterfell. He doesn't believe Skagos is safe until Broden and Aedan return from the Wall," she explained. "I know things are stressful here. So he'll understand if you do not extend an invitation."

"Of course they will come, they are welcomed here," Robb said quickly. "They are your family."

"But they are not your responsibility."

Robb and Fallon stood in silence for many moments before Robb grabbed her hand in his. Her first instinct was to pull it back, but as he ran his calloused fingers over her palm, she couldn't bear to move it.

"You need them here. I'll hear nothing different. Write to Rowan and tell him to come. We have plenty of room and with all of these attacks, perhaps they could help shed light on the situation."

"You don't think the attack meant for Bran was related do you? It was the same night as the fire." She asked him.

"I thought at one time they might have been, but now I can't be sure. I don't understand what Bran's attack could have to do with your family or how they could be connected. But I intend to find out." She nodded and he slowly let go of her hand.

"Robb," she whispered and she mentally scolded herself for how desperate her voice sounded when she spoke his name.

"You've been avoiding me," he replied and it was as if he'd read her mind.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Why?" he asked her, his gaze seemed intent on bringing forth the truth and it caused her to shift uncomfortably. "Fallon I just want to help."

"I know," she said. She accepted that. But what she was dealing with wasn't a burden she was willing to share with him, not when he had so much to worry over on his own.

There was a sudden knock on the door that dissolved any courage of her telling him that and in walked Theon with a curious expression.

"Was it good news?" he asked and both she and Robb nodded.

"We'll discuss it later," Robb told him. "Now, let's get back out there."

"Go before me," she told them both. "It shouldn't look like you and I were together. Kathryn..."

"Kathryn can say what she likes," Robb said sternly, pulling her in front of him and letting her lead them out the door.

She was right, there were several pairs of eyes directed at the three of them as they entered the room, one of which was glaring angrily at the sight of her and Robb standing so close. When they reached the table, however, they separated. She sat on the opposite end of the table next to Rickon, as she usually did, and ignored the blonde's gaze that was still directed at her.

Only once did she look up to see Robb's hard gaze lighten as he caught her eyes. They exchanged the glance for longer, perhaps, than they should have but Fallon couldn't help but feel something in that moment that set her soul alight. Something in his eyes told her things would be alright, even though she felt as if her world was crumbling. Even if it did, she had a feeling he'd be there to catch her.

Her savior. Her wolf.

* * *

**[Kathryn]**

Everyone had long retired when Kathryn slipped out of her room, holding the hem of her nightgown up so it didn't drag on the stone floors of the corridor. The halls were dimly lit with lanterns scattered slightly about the walls. While her chambers were nothing compared to the finery she'd lived in, they were increasingly better than most of the residents at Winterfell.

She made her way about the castle, finding the corridors much easier to maneuver than they had been when she'd first come to live at Winterfell. She passed several doors before she found the one she was searching for and slowly closed her fingers around the handle until it yielded to her force. The door opened quietly and she strained to see in the darkness as she closed her door behind her.

Only silhouettes were visible as the embers in the fireplace were dimly visible in the corner. She'd seen the room once before, making it easier for her to find the side of the bed with her outstretched hands. She pulled at the thin ribbons of her robe and let it fall lightly to the ground, leaving her with nothing more than the thin fabric of her nightgown covering her. She climbed onto the bed, seeking out the body that was currently occupying it and nearly screamed when she found herself thrown onto her back quickly with a knife against her throat and a hand over her mouth.

"Scream and I'll slit your throat, do you understand?!" he whispered harshly. She nodded and he removed his hand. "Now who are you?"

"Well if you let me light a bloody candle, you idiot, then you'd have seen me," she said angrily.

"Kathryn?" he asked, leaning over her and she heard something strike against steel. Then a light appeared as the candle was lit and she was able to see his surprised features as his body was pressed against hers. He moved away from her quickly. "What in Seven Hells are you doing here?!"

"I can go where I please," she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Did you mean to find Robb's bed?" he asked her, disapprovingly and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm exactly where I meant to go," she replied.

"Go back to bed," he said sternly.

"Don't tell me what to do!" she shouted and he placed her hand over her mouth once more.

"Hush! Are you trying to get me thrown out!? Is that what's going on here?" he asked, this time anger in his tone and she laughed.

"Please, if I wanted to get you thrown out I'd have done it the first week I caught you staring at me."

"I wasn't..."

"Save your lies, I didn't really come here to talk," she said, looking down at her nightgown and then back up to him. She watched his eyes travel downwards over her body and linger on the sight of her breasts, visible through the transparent fabric.

"You wasted your time," he said, looking away. "I may have given you the impression that I find you attractive. But there are boundaries I cannot cross."

"On whose ordes?" she whispered, making out the features of his dark hair and untended stubble on his chin. "You think Robb would honestly even notice or care? He doesn't even look at me."

"I've seen you together. He cares for you..." he said and all she heard were lies as she laughed.

"He cares for Fallon. And we may spend time together but I assure you his mind is elsewhere. Just as mine is," she whispered as she leaned her head up towards his but he pulled back before her lips touched against his.

"Kathryn, you need to leave," he told her, sitting up against the headrest but she only sat up as well, and moved to sit on top of him, her legs on either side of him, causing him to look down towards her breasts once again.

"You want me to leave Theon?" she asked and at first he didn't answer. She smirked, victoriously. "I didn't think so."

"We shouldn't," he whispered through a groan as she rolled her hips over his.

"And yet, here we," she teased, placing her mouth against his shoulder as her breasts pushed up against his chest. "If you want me to leave, just say so. And I'll go without saying a word to anyone."

She rolled her hips again and he stopped her with his hands on her hips, pulling her tightly against his groin to keep her from moving. Their lips were close now, so close she could feel his breath against her mouth. Like that, they sat for a long while. Nothing passing but their glances and their soft breaths, the latter of which quickened the longer time passed.

And suddenly, without warning he flipped her onto her back in one swift motion, moving his hand down her side until he reached the underside of her nightgown and she felt his hands on her thigh and she sighed. But before she finished his mouth covered hers, capturing it in a heavy kiss that engulfed her mind.

And all she wanted was more.


	9. Chapter 9

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

**[Fallon]**

It had been weeks since she could remember laughter. The sound creeping up from her throat and out for all to hear. It was pleasant, even to her own ears as she was bent, holding her side as the pain increased with each laugh.

The evening was falling quickly over Winterfell, the skies growing darker with each passing minute. It had been Bran's idea to light the fire out in the courtyard, both of them were tired after their archery lesson. She had volunteered to learn the art of Dothraki horseback archery alongside Bran when he seemed slightly reluctant. They hadn't spent much time together since he'd woken up after the fall, but they soon fell back into their easy familiarity within moments of Fallon missing her target. They both laughed as the arrow flew by the target, not anywhere near it's intended mark. Theon, of course, stood at the side, shaking his head disappointedly.

Now they stood by the fire as Fallon taught Bran the Skagosi songs performed at Gheimhridh Comoradh, the festival House Magnar hosted at the fall of every winter. She had only seen one Gheimhridh as a girl, but she recalled the festivities as if it were yesterday. The songs were the same that she'd sung all her life as were the dances she'd done from the valleys to the great hall.

"How do you do that?" Bran asked from his place on the blanket, Hodor close by.

"Do what?" she asked, slowing her spin until she and Rickon were paused, full of laughter as they tried to stay their balance.

"Dance like that, I've never seen anyone dance so fast," he said in awe.

It was true, the dances of Skagos were much faster than that of the dances she'd seen at Winterfell. Even Rickon was unable to keep up. But she liked both styles. She thought the dances that the people of the North did were elegant and beautiful. She'd only gotten a chance to dance them once, months ago, but she looked forward to the next time she was allowed to show what she'd learned.

"It's all about keeping pace with the music," she explained, letting go of Rickon's hand so he could sit down next to Bran. "When my sister comes, she'll show you exactly how fast a woman of Skagos can dance."

She sat down on the blanket near the fire, closest to Bran but directly across from where Robb's eyes were watching her intently. He was sitting next to Kathryn, who had a goblet in her hand as she sipped the wine with mild interest in the flames that danced in front of her. She didn't seem to notice Robb's eyes as Fallon did. She quickly looked away, back down to where her own goblet was empty and she searched for the ale that had been passed around.

"Do they have jousting at the Gheimhridh?" Rickon asked and she laughed.

"Jousting is a foolish sport," she said with a grin, knowing Robb loved jousting tournaments. She saw him grin from across the fire. "The Skagosi think it is savage to put their horses lives at stake for the sake of sport."

"Horses are rarely injured," Robb countered, holding up the ale where she could see it, before he passed it around to her.

"And there isn't a single sport in Skagos that our horses have ever been injured at all," she said matter-of-factly. He smirked.

"What games do they have then, if not jousting?" Bran asked.

"The games at the Gheimhridh bring warriors and families from all over Skagos to Kingshouse. My father hosted the last Gheimhridh and he chose the twelve games that would be performed for the twelve days of the festival. Events like cliff climbing, wrestling, throwing, sword fighting, and running. The games are often chosen to test the strength of the men, and the women who compete."

"Women compete?" Kathryn asked, which surprised Fallon. Kathryn never asked questions, nor did she ever seem to pay attention to any of the stories Fallon told.

"Of course the women compete," Enat said, pouring the ale into Fallon's goblet once it made it's way around. "They compete mostly in their own games, but there are a few events where women compete with men."

"Like what?" Theon asked.

"Fallon's mother was the champion of the archery tournament, beat over fifty men, including Drystan Magnar," Enat said.

"You mean to say your mother was a champion archer and you can't shoot to save your life?" Theon asked Fallon who only stuck her tongue out in response, causing the group's laughter to rise with the flames into the evening sky.

"Fallon has competed in the games, not the Gheimhridh because she was only small thing then, but there are summer games as well. Skagosi will find any reason to celebrate with a tournament. Fallon defeated Rowan by sword one year," Enat explained. "She was only fifteen then."

"As I recall it, she cheated during that particular instance," a voice said that caused all heads to turn towards it.

Fallon looked up to see the familiar features, the green eyes of her beloved brother staring down at her with a warm smile and she leapt to her feet. It was Rowan. Her heart too leapt in her chest, all feelings of joy flooding into.

She jumped up into his arms, his tall stature pulling her off the ground so that her feel flung freely in the air. She buried her face in his shoulder as he held her. He smelled of campfire and forest, the handstitched tunic embroidered with their family crest.

"Sweet sister," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Surely you haven't spent all of your time here telling lies about me."

"Not everything is about you Rowan," she told him, swatting him against his shoulder as he let her down. "And I did beat you, fairly I might add."

Behind him stood another figure, Albertha. She hadn't seen her sister in nearly four years. And here she was in her fine gown, her hair braided and pinned in a style unlike Fallon had seen in the North. She had aged some, but her features were still that a of a young woman, barely over the age of twenty. And she was beautiful.

"Fallon," she said with a smile, opening her arms to embrace her. Fallon held her sister close to her, thinking that Elsbeth should be here, that they were broken without her, without Corran as well. "You look wonderful."

"As do you, sister," Fallon whispered, kissing her cheek. "Your skin is ice cold, come stand by the fire."

Fallon lead both Rowan and Albertha over towards the fire where Robb stood to welcome them. He shook hands with Fallon's brother and then kissed Albertha's cheek which caused her to smile. Rowan sat down next to her and she handed him a cup and filled it with ale to the brim. Albertha sat on his other side, listening to Bran retell one of the stories she'd told of Skagos. She would smile often as he'd reenact the parts he could without moving.

"I can't remember the last time I saw you smile," Rowan whispered as Bran continued with the story. Fallon brushed the hair from her face as she glanced at her brother. His green eyes danced in the firelight and she was suddenly reminded of their many adventures in Skagos. Always he'd been by her side.

"It's been a long time since I've been happy enough to do so," she replied with a sad smile as she thought of home.

"They treat you well?" he asked seriously and she smiled as she directed her gaze across the fire to see Robb laughing as Bran came to the funniest part of the story.

"They treat me like family," she admitted. "Better than I could have hoped."

It was true, amongst these people, she felt like family. She was even getting used to Kathryn. It was like growing up with Elsbeth. They'd always had a rocky relationship as girls. It didn't help that Aedan had been chosen for Elsbeth's husband. It was almost a reminder of that rivalry they'd always had. Rickon was a joy, always bringing out the smiles when he'd come to her rooms and read stories to her. Bran was adventurous and passionate, always reminding her of Corran. Theon was just like her, and yet also not like her. Both in the same position and yet taking difference advantages of it.

And then there was Robb. The first time she saw Robb she resented him for being Ned's son, for being entitled to a future. But as time passed she saw that Robb was a slave to his future, just as she was. He didn't have a choice in most matters. He was meant to marry Kathryn without complaint. And the thought of Robb's impending wedding didn't sit well within her. Again, there was an unnamed feeling that she was faced with.

Each day as the sun rose she woke with that feeling fresh in her mind and as the sun set, she lie awake, restless in her bed trying to rid her mind of his smile. Even now the sound of her laugh caused the corners of her mouth to rise into a grin that was unique to these moments. She knew she had to confront those feelings, she had to talk to Rowan.

He would know what they meant.

* * *

**[Enat]**

The sun had long risen as Enat woke, late into the morning. Though the light through her window was dimmed by the clouds that covered the sun from spreading it's rays. She woke with a start, quickly rushing out from under her sheets, unintentionally waking the other figure from her bed.

"What's got you in such a hurry?" he groaned, covering his eyes with the pillow as she opened the curtains. She laughed.

"I've got work to do," she said, throwing a towel at him.

Rowan pulled the pillow off of his face and she could see the sun dance over his dark features. His hair was the same color as Fallon's and fell down, just above his shoulders. He was strong, and handsome and had always had an eye for mischief. Fallon and Rowan were nearly the same person, she'd noticed. Since they were children they were always finding themselves in some sort of trouble. Both had the same passion for living. And both were very dear to Enat's heart.

"When will you find a wife for yourself and stop sharing my bed?" she teased. He sat up, stretching his shoulders.

"I'll find a wife, when you find yourself a husband," he joked back. "Though, I did hear whispers that you found yourself a Stark."

"They don't call him Stark," she said and then scolded herself for saying anything at all. But then again, Rowan always knew how to catch her in a lie.

"Ah so it's the Snow boy that you have your eye on," Rowan said, pulling on his tunic. "Is he a better lover than me?" he asked with a smirk.

"I wouldn't know," she said honestly.

It was true, part of her had grown very fond of Jon Snow before he'd left for the wall. She found him to be very serious at times, quite opposite of Rowan. But she liked that about him. She had never loved Rowan beyond their lovemaking. He was handsome but not an ideal partner outside of the bedroom. But when Jon left for the Night's Watch, she had lost whatever they had gained in the time before his departure.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't miss him. She thought about writing him several times but there was no use in sparking a flame that would be put out in a matter of seconds. In the meantime she settle her womanly urges with Rowan Magnar, her longtime friend. They'd been each other's first, in many ways. There was a bond in that type of relationship. She'd told that to Fallon many times.

"What work has got you rushing off so fast? I've been here a week already and I've never seen you out of bed in such a hurry."

"Lord Robb has been planning this hunting trip for Fallon's nameday, for weeks. He wants to surprise her and if I don't have her ready then it will spoil the entire thing."

"Lord Stark must really know my sister," Rowan laughed. "She's the only girl I've ever met that wants to spend her nameday out in the forest, hunting."

"She's no ordinary girl, you know that," Enat told him, pulling on her dress. Rowan stood to help her with the ties. He'd become quite an expert with Enat's instruction. Or at least that's what she told herself. The truth was, Rowan had many lovers already in his youth. She didn't blame him.

"You've been around her this whole time?" he asked and she nodded, holding her hands on her hips as she awaited his finishing of her ties. "Aedan wrote me, some time ago after he'd seen her in the forest."

"I expected he would. From what Fallon told me, their reunion wasn't exactly a happy one.

"She was angry, I understand that, but..." he said, pausing as he finished the last tie and stepped back. "He said she's changed. I see that for myself as well."

"Not all change is bad Rowan," she reminded him. "She's become a strong person, stronger than before."

"Does she still love Aedan?" he asked her.

Aedan and Rowan were brothers in all but name. She'd never seen them apart until now. Rowan was the first one to discover Fallon's true feelings for Aedan. Broden too had noticed his sister's misery when Drystan announced Elsbeth's wedding, the combining of the Magnar and Crowl families.

"Yes, I believe she does, but..."

"But not as she did before," Rowan finished for her. Enat nodded.

"I always thought somehow the gods would bring them back together. But now I see that perhaps her love for my brother was simply a young love, a first love."

"And you think she might love the Stark then?"

"She will, if she doesn't already. Fallon doesn't even know it herself yet, but I've seen in her eyes. I've heard it in her voice," she told him confidently. "She casts herself away from it, plays the part of an indifferent woman. But I know her, you know her. She's connected to him, so much so that I dare say that perhaps the gods had other intentions for Fallon the day Aedan was betrothed to Elsbeth."

Enat could see the pain in Rowan's eyes at the mention of his sister. But she could tell he was also considering her words. Rowan was a smart man, and he loved Fallon more than any of his siblings. He was very protective of her.

"I've seen it in her eyes as well," Rowan said quietly. "It worries me."

"Why be worried when she is happy?" she asked him, grabbing his hands but he shook his head.

"She is happy now, but how will it be when Robb Stark weds Kathryn Ashford?" he asked seriously. Enat would have been lying if she said she hadn't been hopping Robb would break his betrothal.

"He will never love Kathryn," she said stubbornly. "She strives to be Lady of Winterfell so desperately that I daresay she'd do anything to achieve it, including place herself above everyone else."

"She will be Lady of Winterfell."

"And everyone here will suffer because of it," Enat whispered. "She is the like a storm that threatens to destroy anything in it's path."

She wasn't sure if Rowan believed her words about Kathryn, but she knew that he saw what was going on between Fallon and Robb. Whether or not he would do anything about it was completely up to him.

* * *

**[Rowan]**

Rowan couldn't remember having a pastime he enjoyed as much as hunting. He found the sport to be just as exciting as it was relaxing. Since he was a child, he'd loved the hunt and he remembered the first time his father sat him upon his horse and lead him out into the forests of Skagos. The terrain was much different here in the North, but he found the weather very reminiscent of home, unlike the Vale, which was more like Skagos in terrain, but not in climate.

"If you keep missing, we'll have nothing to bring home for the feast," Theon complained, for the third time as Fallon's arrow barely missed a small doe, sending it rushing off.

"You're supposed to be nice to me on my nameday Theon," she said with a grin.

"Give her a spear, and see what she does with it then," Rowan told them and Robb looked at Theon who seemed to consider this idea as if it had never been proposed. Surely they'd seen her throw a spear, he thought. Rowan had spent all of his sixteenth year helping her perfect the throw.

"I recall Broden saying something very similar when Father was teaching him to use the bow. But as he always said..." Fallon started and Rowan smiled at the memory. "You can never learn to swim..."

"...if you don't get out of the boat," Rowan finished. "I distinctly remember him saying that right before he threw us both off the boat and into the bay."

"And you learned to swim because of it."

"Only because I nearly drowned the first time. I wasn't about to let him do it to me again," Rowan corrected and Fallon laughed loudly, a pretty sound that caused all the men in the hunting party to smile.

Rowan couldn't help but see Robb's grin, wide as he watched Fallon's every move and an idea came to him then as he pulled his horse from it's place by the tree and looked to Theon.

"Well if she's going to be practicing all afternoon, we better leave the real hunting to those more capable, aye Theon?"

"If we leave it to her we'll not be having much of a supper," he agreed and he walked in the direction Rowan was leading his horse.

"See that her feelings aren't too hurt, will you Stark?" Rowan joked, watching as Fallon rolled her eyes and walked in the opposite direction, leaving Robb to follow after her.

Theon and Rowan only had to walk for about an hour before they came upon a boar, not nearly full size but big enough that Theon didn't waste a second in shooting it down. Rowan was laying it over the back of his horse when Theon placed his bow over his shoulder and looked at him curiously.

"You meant to send them off together, didn't you?" he asked and Rowan couldn't hide his smirk.

"I can only imagine that since you're asking me that question that you've noticed exactly what I have," Rowan replied. "He's very familiar with her, wouldn't you say?" Theon seemed to think about his answer for a moment before opening his mouth to speak.

"I don't think they were ever strangers," was his answer and Rowan gleaned more in those few words than he had from Enat just that morning.

Whatever was going on between Robb and his sister was mutual, he'd seen that the moment he'd arrived back in Winterfell and seen them together. But for whatever reason she didn't want him to know that, and Rowan wanted to find out why.

* * *

**[Robb]**

The sun was high in the sky, peeking through the clouds that hung above them, sprinkling light showers every so often as they continued their hunt. Fallon's skin glistened from the previous shower that had caught them both unaware an hour after they'd parted from Theon and Rowan.

They were now stranded under one of the larger trees, waiting for the heavier rain to quit as they both leaned up against it. The time was passed retelling the story of Rowan and Fallon learning to swim, as per Robb's curiosity. He laughed as she provided the reenactment of his floundering in the ocean and her father's laughter.

She came to the end of the story, pausing as the rain let up slightly. They walked out from under the shelter of the thick branches and stepped lightly around fallen twigs, continuing into the forest as they'd planned. Robb knew this forest like the back of his hand, knowing exactly how far they were from Winterfell at any given moment. But Fallon was still unfamiliar with it, looking around anxiously as she held her bow at the ready. He tried to imagine her with a spear, on a rocky terrain, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Robb," she whispered quickly and his attention was pulled from her stance to the direction in which she was facing.

There in the distance was the doe, the small one that had run off previously, barely escaping her arrow only an hour or so prior. She rose to shoot, but Robb placed his arm against hers, lowering it. She flinched slightly at the proximity, his back pressed against hers. Robb moved her long hair over her left hand shoulder and leaned in closely to her right ear.

"Not yet," he whispered. "You have to watch it, wait for it to be caught off guard. It's listening, waiting," he said and he saw her eyes attempting to focus on the doe, but glance back at him every few seconds.

He didn't move as they stood there, their bodies pressed together the smell of her damp hair filling his senses. He placed a hand on her hip, repositioning her to give her a better stance as his father had taught him. She moved with him easily, as if he was leading her in a dance. He then rose her bow arm, his hand resting over the skin of her wrist, and he heard a small intake of breath at the contact. He then pulled his hand from her wrist and pulled in against her stomach.

"Breathe in slowly," he whispered. She did as he said, and he could feel her breathing in under his hand. "Do you see her? She thinks she's alone. But she's not." Once her arm was properly placed he gave her the signal. "Now."

The arrow shot out from her fingertips so fast that he hardly had time to look as the doe met it's end. The arrow piercing it's flesh as it cried out for only a moment. Fallon's chest rose and fell quickly, the adrenaline running through her as she watched the animal fall to it's side. Robb watched her expression of surprise morph as the corners of her pink mouth turned up into a smile.

"I did it," she whispered in disbelief and then turned to look at Robb. "I did it!"

"Yes you did," he said, laughing.

"Thank you," she said happily, embracing him with her arms around his neck.

He was surprised at first. Fallon didn't normally embrace him this way, with a smile on her face and laughter in her voice. But this time, the hug was meant for him and he wrapped his arms around her small figure and lifted her into the air, both of them laughing louder as he did so. He put her down, then, in front of him, and their proximity was closer than he'd intended. But the look in her eyes kept him standing there as her smile faded slightly.

She pulled her hands from behind his neck and slid them down until they were resting lightly on his chest. Her eyes, so vibrant green, looked up at him with something akin to the feeling currently pulsing through his chest.

"Must we keep on pretending?" he said, placing his forehead against hers as she craned her neck to see him.

"Keep on pretending what?" she asked slowly, diverting her gaze.

"Pretending not to care for one another," he told her and she sighed.

"Robb," she whispered, and again the sound of his name on her lips caught him by surprise. Gone were the days when she could only call him 'Stark.'

"Must we go on acting as if we don't want this? This here?" he said, placing his hand over hers. "Tell me what I must do to make you mine Lady Magnar?"

Fallon stood before him, without words, for several moments. He could see her eyes searching up into his, looking for the words he most wanted to hear. But he only wanted to hear the truth, he wanted to know what was behind her smiles and soft glances. He wanted to know how she felt about him and how he could win her heart.

"I cannot seem to escape you," she whispered and Robb could feel the breath against his face. "I'm starting to think I have always been yours."

Robb felt his heart leap at her answer, although her tone was a very sad one as she then closed her eyes. He placed his hand on her neck, tracing it with his fingertips until it was resting under her jaw line. His heart pounded with such purpose he was sure it was coming out of his chest as he stood there, looking down at her.

Robb couldn't let go of that moment.

He pressed his lips against hers, slowly at first. But soon it grew as he pulled her in against him. She didn't pull away as he deepened the kiss, only let her arms wrap around his neck as they felt the rain falling once again. It was cold against his skin, but Robb only cared about the warmth of her tongue against his and the sound that escaped her throat when he pushed her gently against a nearby tree trunk. He pulled away to let her breathe, using the time to kiss the expose skin of her neck.

"We shouldn't..." she tried to say, catching her breath but he covered her mouth with his.

"Why?" he asked her, kissing her cheek and then her jaw. "Why shouldn't we?"

"I made a promise," she said, her eyes closed when his lips reached her neck.

He knew the promise she spoke of, the one to his father. He too had made a promise and here he was breaking it. He knew it was wrong, to break an oath, that his mother would be furious if she saw him now. But he had never felt something so far from wrong in all of his life as he held her there so close to him.

"As did I, but I can't keep this promise, not to Kathryn," he admitted, looking into her eyes. "I can't marry her when my heart belongs to you."

For a moment he thought she might smile, the way the corners of her now bruised lips twitched slightly. But she then looked away.

"Robb I told you...you have a duty..." she explained. "You must marry her and honor that promise."

"How is it any more honorable to marry someone I cannot give my heart to?" he asked and held her when she finally tried to pull away.

"Even if you broke off your engagement you couldn't marry me," she told him.

"Who would stop us?"

"I..." she started and then sighed. "I can't marry you, even if you weren't marrying Kathryn, which you must."

"And why not?" he asked, furrowing his brow, confused by her words.

"Before your father left, he told me the next time he came to Winterfell he'd return me to Skagos," she told him and Robb's eyes widened. "He said I could go home."

Robb had a hard time trying to form words then as he watched her sad smile fall. He knew she wanted to go home, he'd give anything to bring her there himself. But that would also mean never seeing her again. He wasn't sure if he could do that.

"I should have told you," she said apologetically. "I just knew it would upset you."

"Of course it upsets me," he said, his voice raised. "Because I love you."

"Don't," she protested, looking away. "Don't say that to me."

"Fallon," he whispered, placing his hands on either side of her face. "I love you."

"I wish you wouldn't," she replied. "I wish I'd never come to Winterfell. You're life would have been so much better had you never met me."

"I disagree," he said firmly. "I need you."

"He was right," she whispered. "Staying here can only bring us both pain. I was so naive to think I could do this on my own."

"Who, my father?" he asked.

"Yes Robb, your father. He told me this would happen and I told him I'd take care of it. But...I'm just not strong enough."

"What do you mean?"

But she didn't answer him, only placed her lips against his, craning her neck up to him. The rain was barely falling through the trees, keeping them slightly sheltered. But Robb's mind was racing with her words. When the time came would she leave him? Would she disappear from his live as easily as she'd arrived into it? Could he give up this feeling, the touch of her skin and the taste of her lips? Right now he didn't know. If he only had a short time with her, then he would do what he had to in order to change her mind. As selfish as that was.

Inside he felt the savage part of him dancing from the feeling of her body against his. There was nothing but the two of them there as he tried to push his worries away. He was here, with her. And he didn't want to be anywhere else.

He wanted Fallon Magnar and he wasn't giving up without a fight.

* * *

A/N: Well things are starting to stir a little...what did you think? Thanks, as always, for the wonderful reviews. I can't believe how great your support is and you all are keeping this story going. I hope you are enjoying it! Let me know what you are thinking so far - xoLola


	10. Chapter 10

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

**[Rowan]**

The letter came early in the day, early enough that the Hall had been abuzz all throughout breakfast. It was a letter from King's Landing, that much he knew, most likely from the Hand of the King, Lord Stark. But the contents of the letter had been kept secret as Robb Stark and the Maester disappeared for a great deal of time that whispers began to spread throughout the castle.

Rowan had spent most of the morning outside in the cool air, practicing his archery with Theon. They both had a wager going since the beginning of the week, ever since Fallon and Robb had come home with a cleanly shot doe. Neither could believe it. Each of them had bet the other that they could find a bigger and better game to bring home for the next feast at the end of the week.

Fallon was busy with Bran, both sitting atop horses as they aimed at their targets, hitting them every so often. Bran's skill continued to improve daily. Fallon always seemed distracted as she'd pull back the arrow and then paused for several moments before releasing it gracefully. She'd often hit her targets then, making Rowan wonder what had happened out in the forest to change her luck.

Though, he had an idea of what that was.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky when he found her underneath the weirwood tree, her cloak lightly draped over her shoulders as she traced her fingers over the bark. She was crouched down, sitting up on her knees as she whispered a prayer in the Old Tongue, a prayer he'd heard more times than he could remember since she was a girl. The prayer of selflessness. It wasn't until she finished that he sat down next to her and she glanced at him from the corner of her green eyes.

"So. You found me," she said with a grin and he couldn't help but smile.

"You have been doing well at avoiding me," he replied and she shrugged.

"I had hoped you'd be too busy to notice," she admitted, adjusting her position so she was sitting on the ground.  
"I notice everything when it comes to you sister. You know that," he told her. "But I thought we were closer than this. Since when do we keep secrets?"

"Not secrets, not really," she corrected. "And I have been wanting to speak to you about them, I just. Oh I don't know. I thought I could deal with it without burdening someone else."

"Is this about your Young Wolf?" he asked her and she laughed at the nickname Rowan had given Robb.

"Something is changing, between him and me," she said. "And I am no longer convinced I should resist that change. Part of me says that I should, that I have a duty to honor my promise to Lord Eddard, but another part of me wishes for something else."

He nodded as she spoke, knowing she was starting to realize her feelings for Robb were not as easy to resist as she thought they might be.

"You remember when you told me you did not care for Aedan?" he asked her and she looked away in shame as Aedan's name was introduced into the conversation.

"I thought he was pretentious. He followed me everywhere I went," she admitted.

"He told me he was sure he fell for you the moment he saw you that day in the storm, the way you looked at him when he saved your mare from the river. But you didn't want anything to do with him," Rowan spoke, tearing a blade of grass from the ground and tearing it gently in his fingers. "And then one day you came to me and you said something had changed. Much like now."

"I remember," she whispered.

"What changed between you?" he asked her.

"Then? or now?" she replied, referring to Aedan, her voice sounding hurt.

"Both?"

"I was young, Aedan was handsome and he loved me with such honesty. I couldn't have asked for something more beautiful. Our family loved him, you loved him. I knew if you approved he must be a good man. And he was, he still is. He always treated me with respect. But one day I just saw him in a different light, as if the sun had risen and I was no longer wandering blindly through the darkness. He was there, and I saw him as something other than my brother's friend or the man who cared for me. I felt love, for the first time in my life." Her eyes were focused on nothing in particular as she spoke.

"And now? What changed that love?" he asked and she didn't answer for several minutes.

"I think it was me who changed, not the love. I still love him, no matter what happened with Elsbeth. But I'm not sure that his love is enough for me, not this me. I have grown and with that become someone different. I am still trying to discover if this new me is someone I even like," she tried to explain.

Rowan new it was hard for her to admit this to him, knowing Aedan was like a brother to him. He'd be beyond happy when Aedan said he wanted to marry Fallon. But when their father had married Elsbeth to him instead, he'd seen the sacrifice Fallon had made. Rowan knew Fallon better than anyone and he knew the pain it had caused her to let go. He wondered if the change in her had really began then.

"What happened in the woods?" he asked her and he saw her cheeks flush a light shade of pink. He didn't need her to answer then, but he couldn't help but smirk at her reaction.

"I should not have done it, but then he kissed me and said things. Oh Rowan you should have heard the things he said," she said, the admission pouring from her lips in a hushed whisper. "I promised Lord Stark that I wouldn't be a disturbance, that Robb would do his duty. And now...now I've made this mess."

"It's only a mess if Robb does not do his duty, correct?" he asked her and she nodded.

"Yes but he keeps saying he can't marry her. I've been so stupid!"

"Fal..."

"It does not matter, none if it does," she said quickly. "I told him that I'm returning to Skagos."

"You said Lord Stark would take you back when he next returned to Winterfell. But we both know that won't be anytime soon. He might not return for months, a year even. Are you planning to wait that long to confront this?"

"I don't want to confront it at all but he-" she started and then paused.

"He what?" he urged her but she shook her head.

"Nothing," she insisted but Rowan could always tell when she was lying.

"He told you he loved you, didn't he? That's what happened in the woods?" he asked and she sighed. It was confirmation enough for him.

"I thought I had done well at keeping my distance. I told him about Aedan and I thought he'd accept it, but he didn't," she explained. "He's so damn insistent. He barely gives Kathryn any notice at all."

"I can't imagine who would want to," he grumbled. "She's impossible."

"She's not all that bad," Fallon tried to argue but it was clear even she didn't believe her own words.

"She calls us Skaggs under her breath. She thinks she's above us," he said. "And she's not the only one. She's not the only one who thinks Winterfell would be better off without us here. I've heard them whispering."

"She_ is_ above me, they all are" she reminded me. "Here I am not of noble blood. Here I am no better than a common servant."

"The Magnar's blood runs through your veins, just as it does mine, descending back from the First Men. She doesn't have that claim," Rowan protested.

He never understood why Fallon had been stripped of her title. He knew it was law, that she had no rights as a noble when she became a ward of Ned Stark. But he still didn't understand it. Fallon had gone to their father soon after the sentence had passed. She had offered to become the Stark's ward and their father agreed without argument. Rowan had begged to take her place. He was never born to be Lord of Kingshouse, Magnar of Skagos. That had been Keeran's birthright, passed to Broden soon after Keeran's tragic death. But Rowan had no future in that. And he didn't want his sister to give up hers. But his father refused.

"You're the Nighean, Fal," he reminded her, his voice raised. "You're supposed to have whatever life you choose!"

"And I chose _this_ one!" she shouted and Rowan was surprised by the intensity in her voice. "I did this for Corran."

"Father wanted you here. You think you chose this life, this sacrifice, but he knew you'd be safe here. You're not supposed to be a ward of the North. You're the Nighean of Skagos. Your destiny is in your hands. Stop acting like what you did was so noble."

She seemed to consider this for several moments as Rowan calmed himself. It was harsh what he said, but Fallon was noble to a fault. She had to stop hiding behind that.

"He will only suffer more if I let him love me," she whispered. "I can't have the burden."

"He will love you even if you don't let him, just as you love him," he said and her eyes snapped up towards his.

"I don't-"

"You love him, that's what you are battling with, that's why you let him kiss you in the forest, and that's why you sound so miserable when you talk of leaving this place."

"Rowan, I do want to go home," she insisted. "I have missed it every day since I watched the island fade from my view, and I would give anything to return."

"And you will," he said. "But we can't go home until we find out who wants us dead. Skagos is not safe."

"Winterfell is no safer," she argued. "I nearly died, as did Bran."

"But Stark saved you. And I'm here now, we're safer together, at least until Broden returns from the Wall," he countered. "In the meantime you should let yourself love."

"It will all be for naught," she told him. "Loving him will only hurt us both, just as Lord Stark said."

"Or you could have your love, and it will make you both very happy. Yes you will leave him, yes he will marry Kathryn and he will be forced to live out the rest of his days in a miserable match with a miserable woman," he said and Fallon's features fell as she took in his words. "His future, isn't a happy one. Maybe he'll have children, and perhaps they will make him happy but he'll always have Kathryn there to bring him down. Is it so much to ask to let him enjoy some happiness before that fate is sealed?"

"But it would be wrong," she said, her voice catching slightly in her throat.

"What about that is wrong?" Rowan asked. "Two people who love one another should have happiness, however fleeting it may be. But there should always be something for them to hold on to. If you let yourself love him, when you leave this place you'll at least have that."

"And I'll-," she started as a tear fell. "-just marry another when Broden offers my hand?"

"You know it's not like that," she said.

"I don't know if I can give him that kind of false hope," she said.

"You can't always be selfless Fallon. There are some things you need to do for yourself. You're happy here, and you can take that happiness with you if you just let yourself. Otherwise, you will live in the misery you have created. That is your choice."

For Rowan that was all he could say. He had no other comforting words or warnings to give to her. Hearing her only solidified what he already knew. Fallon loved Robb. Gone were the days when her heart could be persuaded otherwise. Even if she chose not to give into herself while she could, she would always love him, regardless of where she was or who she married.

Enat said the gods had a plan for Fallon and Robb, but to Rowan it was something much more powerful than that. And even if it was only for a short time, they deserved to be happy.

* * *

**[Theon]**

There was no escape from this.

For weeks he'd been stupid, letting her come to his chambers, letting her seduce him and sometimes even letting her sleep there until morning.

It was her fault, Kathryn.

Part of him wanted to throttle her for getting him in this position, the kind of position that meant his head on a stake if they were caught. But there was the other part of him, the strong part that didn't want to stop.

Kathryn was beautiful, and Theon had always had a soft spot for blond women. There weren't many girls with flaxen hair in the North. Theon knew because he'd been around enough to find that fair-haired women were either already married, or soon to be. Not that it had ever stopped him before. But Kathryn was something different entirely. She came to his chambers nearly every night since the first time. And each time she'd tell him it was the last. But it never was.

He knew he had to end it and every time she left there was that part of him that hoped she'd stay away for good. But the other part found her intoxicating, and he was addicted to her presence. Soon he found excuses not to end it, always considering that she'd be angry and tell Robb about the affair. She'd threatened him with that scenario many times when he told her to leave. And now he was stuck, unsure what to do.

Just like now as she pulled her dress to the ground and danced with that mischievous grin on her lips. The steam was rising in the bath as she stepped into the warm water and she beckoned him with her finger.

"Come darling," she whispered. "It's time for your bath."

And no matter how hard he wanted to, he just couldn't refused her.

* * *

**[Fallon] **

It had been eight days since Robb had professed his love for her. And it had been four days since her conversation with Rowan. It took her four days and another conversation with Rowan before she found herself in her current position, standing outside Robb's door with her hand hovering over the handle for the last ten minutes. She was just about to knock when the door opened instead.

"Seven Hells, Fallon," he said quickly, lowering the dagger in his left hand. "What are you doing out here?"

"Why do you have a dagger?" she countered, trying to ignore the sight of his exposed upper body, covered in water that dripped down his skin.

"I saw someone standing out here for so long I thought I might need it," he said, pulling her in and closing the door behind her. "What were you doing?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted with a grin, looking away once again from his body and trying to hide the pink that was slowly rising in her cheeks. "I was planning on knocking, eventually."

"Is everything alright?" he asked, adjusting the fabric around his waist and she started to laugh nervously.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I just came to tell you something and-" she was saying but she paused, unable to continue as she continued laughing.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's just that, well, I can't really concentrate with you all-" she explained and he started to smile when she motion towards his figure.

"Well you did interrupt my bath," he said with a smug grin.

"Only fair," she replied. "As I recall, you did the same to me once."

"Well I daresay, the sight was much more pleasant in that particular instance," he said, his voice playful, his words teasing her.

"You're making me blush, My Lord," she teased back, allowing her eyes to roam over his chest as she fidgeted with the corner of her nightgown.

"It's a pretty color on you," he whispered and she looked away.

"You know," she said. "You shouldn't waste a hot bath," she told him, looking towards the tub of steaming water.

"I was in there long enough," he said, stepping towards her until he was looking down at her with his ocean eyes so heavy with everything he'd said to her that day in the forest. "I'll just get dressed, if you want to wait?"

"I'll look away," she whispered, turning around so that she was staring out the window.

She couldn't see much in the darkness, but she did spot the torch far off on the watch tower that was dimly lit in the night. She could hear the sound of Robb opening his wardrobe and she continued to fidget with the hem of her nightgown. She should have been properly dressed, she knew that. But she had already been in bed when she got the urge to visit him and now she regretting leaving her chambers without one of her thicker robes.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" he asked her and the sound of his voice pulled her from her thoughts.

She turned her head slightly, looking at him over her shoulder where he was now standing. She knew what she came to say, but now she could feel the fear washing over her. There would be ramifications if the words left her lips. Things would change and she could no longer hide from that change. And she feared change. She liked the way things were, she liked being Robb's friend. But she also liked the way his lips felt on hears, the way she felt alive with his hands on her.

When she finally turned to face him, he was standing closer than she'd expected. But she didn't step back. She swallowed quickly as he looked down at her and she craned her neck so she was looking up into his eyes.

"I was hoping to get your permission, to take Albertha to the village," she asked him.

"You know I don't like when you go off on your own," he said softly.

"Am I your prisoner now?" she teased and he smiled.

"You know what I mean," he added. "Especially with the letter I received from my mother having come so soon."

"She did what she thought was best," Fallon told him, agreeing that Lady Stark had taken matters into her own hands for the good of her family. Whether or not her accusations against him were founded, Fallon did not much care. But she knew the Lannisters were involved and maybe Tyrion could give her answers. "And anyways, Rowan can go, and Theon said he would as well, and Bran and Rickon."

"Was everyone but me invited?" he asked, placing his hand over her elbow and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks.

"I'd hoped by me asking permission, you'd find it upon yourself to come along, you can even bring Kathryn if you wish," she said but he frowned.

"Please tell me you didn't come to talk about Kathryn again," he said and she shook her head slowly. She thought of the real reason she'd come, Rowan's words so fresh in her mind. But the words seemed impossible to leave her lips. "What did you come to tell me then? I know you didn't come here to ask my permission for an outing you've been planning all week."

There were several moments of silence between them. Fallon simply stood there, looking over his features and memorizing the way his jaw line curved up from his chin. She liked the way he looked down at her, but at the same time she found herself so vulnerable under those eyes, as if he could see everything she was hiding.

"Before the fire," she whispered, taking a step closer. She placed her hands on his chest lightly, her breath catching in her throat as her fingertips touched to his bare skin. "I saw her kiss you," she added, and he shook his head.

"That didn't mean..." he started, trying to interrupt but she placed her index finger over his lips.

"I know it didn't mean anything. Why else would she have done it right in front of my window?" she asked. "But I didn't like it, her touching you like this," she said looking down at his chest as her fingertips traced circles over his skin. His hands found her waist and he pulled in her so that their hips were flush.

"I don't want her, I've told you that," he said seriously. "I want you."

She smiled.

"I've forgotten what it is like not to feel this way," she said, placing her ear to his chest and she could hear the beating of his heart speeding up with every passing second.

"What way?" he asked.

She pulled her head back and looked up at him, Robb Stark. She couldn't remember anyone ever looking at her in such a manner. It caused a chill up her spine, the kind of chill that relaxed her and unnerved her all at once. The knots in her stomach only twisted tighter and the ache deep inside of her increased.

"Wanting something I can never have," she replied. She could no longer resist the urge to feel his hair in her fingertips. She twisted it around her fingertips as she took in his scent and the warmth of his skin against hers.

"I am yours," he whispered and her eyes closed as she sighed. "Stay with me."

"I can't," she said reluctantly. The urge was there, to stay. Nothing sounded sweeter than to stay wrapped up in his arms, his lips hot against her mouth or her neck, she didn't care. When her eyes finally fluttered open, they were met with his, the blue eyes that seemed to be on fire. Burning for her and her alone. "How can I be with you so briefly? I fear I have no self control when it comes to you."

"You've kept yourself from me long enough," he said, kissing her forehead. "Our time doesn't have to be brief, I've told you that."

"And I've told you I must return home," she reminded him. "I have a duty as the Nighean."

"And I cannot persuade you to stay?" he asked, his eyes pained.

"No," her lips said, though everything inside of her begged to say yes.

"And if my father doesn't return for a year?" he asked her to consider. Just as Rowan had. "What will we do until then? Pretend that this doesn't exist?" As he spoke his hold tightened. His words spoke one thing but his hands clearly showed he wasn't planning on letting go of her any time soon. Not that she wanted him to.

There was that question again, she thought. Could she ignore what was happening between them right now for months or even a year? She'd already admitted that she had little self-control due to his presence. Could she watch Kathryn pawing at him until she left for Skagos? She knew she couldn't. She hated to think herself that weak.

But then other words filled her mind. Rowan had said she could take this happiness with her when she left, that for now she could let herself love. It was selfish and cruel and unfair to them both. But everything inside of her screamed that she didn't care. Everything urged her to embrace what this man was offering her. She couldn't ignore that she yearned for him, that she dreamt of his embrace.

She had to have him.

Even if it was only temporary.

She looked down at her hands and let her eyes follow them as she slid them up his chest. She watched as they brushed over his shoulders and then up either side of his neck until they reached the stubble of his chin and jawline. When they stopped she looked up into his eyes, resigned and willing.

"Until then-," she whispered, raising herself onto her toes so she made herself taller. "-until then, we do what we can with now."

She placed her mouth to his and let him pick her up so her legs were wrapped around his hips. He held her with ease, one hand under her bottom and the other tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss. Fallon wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or cry at what was happening. The feeling was both earth-shattering and terrible all in the same moment as she felt her control fall by the wayside and her desire guiding her closer until there was no space left between them.

She could taste the bitter wine on his tongue as their mouths intertwined and she knew she wanted more. She would always want more of him.

Because now she couldn't seem to get enough.

* * *

**[Kathryn]**

She only looked over her shoulder once to see if Theon was still asleep. When she saw his naked form in her bed, his eyes closed peacefully and his chest rising slowly and then falling, she was satisfied enough.

She sat at her writing desk with a thin robe covering her skin. Her fingers were wrapped around the quill as she wrote in her delicate handwriting until words were formed in reply to her father's most recent letter. She'd been expecting it, to be honest. They'd been in correspondence since he'd departed Winterfell, keeping each other informed of the happenings in the North and in the South.

She'd received his most recent letter that morning by raven. His message was most alarming. Ever since Lady Stark had taken Tyrion Lannister captive in the Vale of Arryn, a panic had arisen not only in Winterfell, but among her family at court in King's Landing. Her status as Robb Stark's betrothed could put her family in danger, her father had said. He warned her that if the Starks did not do as they were commanded by the king, then she too would taste their downfall.

That she simply couldn't have.

She was furious. She was supposed to be a highborn lady, Lady Stark of Winterfell, wife of the Warden of the North. She couldn't be the wife of a traitor, supposed or not.

She looked back at Theon and sighed as she continued the letter. She hated the idea of leaving, at least this early into what could all turn out to be a grave misunderstanding. If she left Winterfell now she could never return. Breaking her betrothal with the Stark family would me she would be unable to marry for at least a year while any other suitors assured her maiden status.

Of course they'd be waiting a long time for that to happen, she thought, laughing at her own joke.

But of course she must go home, she thought. While marriage would take longer, she'd be able to do the waiting home, out of the dreary cold that was the North, the moors and the fog that caused her moods to be so low.

She could take Theon, she thought.

But she could never convince her father to let a Greyjoy, ward of Ned Stark to accompany her, let alone be part of their household. Regardless she'd have to figure out how to break the news to him, the man who had shared her bed now more times than she could count. She welcomed the distraction but they both knew it couldn't last. Whether she was marrying Robb or fleeing for the South, soon enough they'd have to go their separate ways.

It was a tough decision, certainly one she wasn't prepared to make until she knew how to benefit herself the greatest. She certainly wasn't about to come out on the short end of this situation, not when she'd been forced into this engagement in the first place.

So for now her reply was short and simple. She'd return when the threat was serious.

She'd return if the Starks were no longer her best option.

* * *

A/N: Posting this quickly so I can get started on the next chapter. I lost my outline the other day so I couldn't finish this chapter until I found it. I hate when that happens. Hope it was worth the wait! xoLola


	11. Chapter 11

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

**[Robb]**

The sound of quiet laughter filled the forest, stifled every few moments by lips covering lips. The weather was cool, a refreshing as it filled his lungs and left in spurts of laughter.

Robb couldn't stop smiling.

He had pulled Fallon out into the Wolfswood, despite her protests that he was much too busy to be wasting his time with her. That afternoon they spent in solitude, away from curious eyes and suspicious glances. It was only them. But as the sun moved in the sky, behind the clouds that loomed overhead, he knew their time would be fleeting.

It had only been a few weeks since the night she'd come to him in his chambers. Since then they'd been taking in every moment they could with one another. Secret moments in the corridors, stolen kisses that made her cheeks flush pink.

Robb couldn't remember the last time he'd been this happy.

"You're simply too good a dancer, My Lady," he teased as he held her by her waist. "I can't keep up."

"Perhaps if you paid a little more attention to the dance rather than my lips, My Lord," she said, straightening his hold on her hip and dodging another one of his kisses.

She laughed, a sound he had come to love in all it's uniqueness. It was a pretty sound, the joy from Fallon Magnar bursting out for the world to hear. Robb had made it his mission in the last few weeks to make her laugh as much as he could. So far, not a day had gone by where she hadn't graced him with said laughter.

"Concentrate," she said, her voice mocking his and the way he'd been teaching her to shoot her bow with more accuracy.

She was still training with Theon, but she still managed to come to him with questions and excuses to have him help her with her stance. Of course she had no problems at all with her stance, only seemed to enjoy the way Robb would stand close behind her and whisper in her ear. Concentrate, he'd say before she'd release her arrow. She'd always laugh at his serious tone and often times mock him. He'd found the only way to stop her was to tickle her until she was forced to give up.

"You'll have to teach the servants these dances as well," he suggested. "For when my father returns."

"By then you'll be the expert," she told him, showing him how to spin her twice without stopping. She tripped once over his misplaced foot and he caught her easily, both of them laughing. "Well, maybe with a little more practice."

"Only if you are the one teaching me," he whispered, kissing her slowly.

Her lips were soft, and upturned into a blissful smile as they moved against his. He held her hand in his and pulled her in towards him with the other until there was no space between them but the thick fabric of their clothes. He loved the longful sigh that came from her mouth as he deepened the kiss, her fingertips lightly stroking the skin on the back of his hands before intertwining with his own.

A small patch of sunlight fell through the canopy of the trees, the warmth engulfing them as they clung to one another. He moved his lips from her mouth to her jawline, and then to the soft skin of her neck. She moaned quietly near his ear and the savage part of him was alight, squeezing her hand tight in his.

He felt his desire for her building, his senses burning with everything that was her. The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the sound of her shallow breathes so close to him that he could feel each one on his skin. He regained his self-control, pulling back and placing his head on her forehead and looking down into her green eyes that craved more.

"You have bewitched me, My Lady," he whispered, with a smile.

"Certainly it's you who has bewitched me, Mo Faol," she replied, bringing his hand to her lips and she kissed the palm of it, her eyes on his.

She had taken to calling him her 'wolf' as of late. She'd whisper the words in the Old Tongue to him when she knew no one else was listening and he'd smile, just as he was now. He pulled back but held onto her hand as he lead her down the pathway, the forest lush despite the cold. And he couldn't help but wish he could stay in that moment for always. But he couldn't couldn't ignore the looming feeling of knowing she might soon be gone.

"Do you think I'd like Skagos?" he asked her and she looked up at him with a curious grin, her eyebrow raised.

"I suppose you would," she said casually. "I can't imagine you as some Skagosi warrior though, with a longsword and a beard."

"Not until I was married, of course," he said, reminding her of the rule she'd told him. Only married men grew their beards out, as a symbol of their manhood. She laughed and nodded, stroking the stubble on his chin. "How many of your non-bearded men will fight for you in your Gheimhridh Comaradh?" he asked her, referring to the tournament of warriors that would compete for the honor of marrying her, the Nighean.

"Too many for my liking," she said reluctantly. He knew she didn't like talking about it, but he couldn't help but feel curious about the obligation that kept her from following her heart. He knew of obligations, his betrothal that he had not choice in. At least she had a choice, even if it wasn't the ideal one. "My aunt had over a hundred men at her tournament, she married a son from House Stane, the house in the Northmost part of the island. She had long raven colored hair and ice colored eyes. Berach Stane was the strongest and the swiftest. And he had loved my aunt since he laid eyes on her years prior. I've visited them several times and never have I seen two people more in love."

"And it doesn't matter if they are of noble blood?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Once the Nighean picks her husband of the tournament winners, he too becomes a noble. There are only three noble houses on Skagos, so it's rare that the Nighean would marry another nobleman. However it does happen, as it did with my aunt. In that case she could choose to either take his name or he could take hers. She wanted to be a Stane, it was a great honor for their house," she explained. "And ours, to join our families."

"I'm sure somewhere in our families history, at least one Magnar's daughter married a King of Winter," he said with a smirk.

"Yes," she said with a smirk, rivaling his own. "Perhaps we are distant cousins." Her joke lead him to lift her up and tickle her until she retracted her previous statement. Grey Wind, who had been following them for some time yipped excitedly as the two of them laughed.

"House Stark would be a noble conquest for a Nighean," he told her and she nodded, hiding her grin.

"Perhaps," she said, smiling. "But he'd have to defeat a Skagosi warrior first."

"Are you challenging my strength, My Lady?" he asked, with mock insult in his voice. She shrugged, her smile a tease.

"We do not joust," she said. "I'm not sure even the Warden of the North would lower himself to participate in such a barbaric tournament."

"You've never seen me handle a sword," he told her. "-Properly," he added when she went to protest that she had seen him spar in training. "You said there were tournament winners?" he asked curiously. "How are there more than one?"

"Usually there are several talented warriors who are worthy," she said. "The Nighean then chooses her husband from the champions. It's a large ceremony, celebrated afterwards with a large feast in honor of the couple." She stopped their walk and looked up at him. "I thought we weren't going to talk about this," she asked. "You told me you didn't want to know."

"I guess I do now," he said. "I'm not going to just forget all about you once you're gone, Fallon," he said seriously, aware that their previous mood was now dampened because of his questions. "I want to think of you, to know what your life will be like after you leave. I'll never get to see you in your Skagosi wedding gown, or see your sons and daughters and their bright green eyes. I will need something to imagine."

"You could imagine something else," she suggested, with a small smile.

"What do you mean?" he asked and she pulled him towards a patch of grass beneath a large willow tree. She laid back, and urged him to do the same, still holding onto his hand as she closed her eyes. Grey Wind settled down after a few moments of staring down at him curiously, lying close enough to him that his large head lie right on Robb's booted leg.

"Just close your eyes," she whispered and he looked at her peaceful form, her eyes closed her lips damp as she licked them slightly. She peeked out, noticing he was still looking and laughed. "Go on, close them."

He did as she asked, smiling slightly as he did so and relaxed, squeezing her hand in his.

"Now," she whispered, her voice soft as it carried with the breeze. "Imagine the moors full of lush green fields, reaching up to touch the snow-capped mountains. Their rugged and tall, so tall they climb up into the misty, low-hanging clouds." He did his best, picturing the land she spoke of so often, building a picture in his mind that seemed so difficult without seeing it first-hand. He had never had much of an imagination as a boy, but he did his best to transform what he knew, using her rich descriptions.

"I see it," he said once he finally could grasp onto an image.

"Imagine yourself riding throughout the moors, atop that great steed of yours, Conall," he smiled as he imagined Conall, the stubborn but loyal horse that he'd had since his sixteenth name day. A gift from his father. "The rains fall slightly and the skies thunder above, but they do this so often you don't mind. Fiachra and I are there, she's prancing around joyfully because you know how much she loves the rain." Fiachra was Fallon's mare, named for her raven black coat and her swiftness. He laughed at the image. "Together we explore the country until we reach the sea, near Kingshouse. The air is cool, so cool I can see your breath and yet I let my barefeet sink into the sand as the cool ocean water rushes over them."

"You'll freeze," he teased but she squeezed his hand.

"You won't let me," she whispered.

Robb listened to her continue her story, talking about the ships passing and the sailors waving. She spoke of their adventures in the mountains and of Grey Wind racing them through the valleys. Robb could picture it all, her silly laugh, her cheeks pink from the brisk wind. It was almost as if it was a real memory, their fingers intertwined as they were now.

A long moment passed when she didn't say anything, only sat there, listening to the wind as it blew overhead and the sounds of birds periodically singing in the branches above. And then he felt her hand on his cheek and he looked up to see her looking down at him, her long hair falling on either side of his face as their eyes locked.

"When you think of me, Mo Faol, think of those moments," she whispered.

"Will you think of me as well?" he asked her, placing his hand over hers as it rested on his cheek. She nodded.

"I'll think of you always," she told him before he pulled her lightly towards him and kissed her. He rolled her onto her back as she began to kiss him more fervently than before, his weight upon her. He was careful to keep most of his weight off of her though she tugged him closer and closer.

Gone were the thoughts of duty and honor as he was engulfed in all of her. He did not remind himself that they were to be forever imprisoned by their hearts, separated by the burdens of the lives they were meant to live. It might have been wrong, but Robb had never felt that something was so right, so perfect, so meant to be. Here with Fallon in his arms, nothing else mattered. His heart was forever wedded to hers, no matter their fates.

Love finally had meaning.

* * *

**[Rowan]**

Rowan was once again lost in the maze that was Winterfell. He'd told Fallon he might as well have needed a map to navigate the dark corridors in the night. And now he was wandering, searching for a room or a stairwell that looked somewhat familiar. It was Enat who had sent him out from her chambers, in search of more blankets that would keep her warm on this crisp night.

Of course he'd agreed to look for them, but after spending so long losing his way, he had finally given up. He walked back in the direction that was Enat's rooms and felt along the wall until he heard whispers that made him stop in his tracks. It was too dark to see the figures, only their outlines as the huddled by one of the chamber doors. There was quiet laughter, followed by muffled sounds that made him think he'd run across a lovers' tryst.

He smiled and went to walk in the opposite direction before he heard the distinct sound of a familiar voice.

"No one will even notice we're gone until the night," he whispered and Rowan's brow furrowed in curiosity.

"I can't just go Theon," she said, aggravated. "I have a responsibility here," he said and Rowan's suspicions were confirmed. Theon and Kathryn were hardly a stone's throw away and they weren't aware of his presence.

"It's the only opportunity we'll have to be together," he insisted. "You don't even love him, you told me that."

"It doesn't matter...I told you none of that matters. I am not marrying him for love," she whispered harshly and Rowan realized this was a conversation that was not meant for overhearing.

"If it's the title you want, then come to Pyke. My father will be king again and I am the only heir he has left."

"You're father won't be king, Theon. He's lucky he's not less a head for the crimes he committed against the crown. The best you could offer would be to make me a lady of Pyke. Am I supposed to jump at the offer to live my life smelling of rotted fish?"

"Do not speak of my home as if you're better than it, I am of noble blood as well!" Theon said, raising his voice.

"I am better than it!" Kathryn replied in a hushed whisper, with venom in her voice. "And you are not a Lord, not any more. You're no better than Fallon, a wretch who is only a shadow of the Skagg she once was."

The insult caused Rowan to clench his fists. He could hear her footsteps against the stone, coming his way and he hid around the corner as not to be discovered.

"He loves her you know," Theon said bitterly. "He will never love you."

Her footsteps stopped then and she stood in one spot for several moments before Rowan heard her speak again.

"That may be," she whispered. "But they'll never be together. They're both too righteous to ignore their duties. She'll be gone before long and I will be the one with his name."

"You're wrong," was what Theon said next and he didn't need to see Kathryn to know she was was glaring at him. Kathryn didn't like to be told she was wrong. But she was.

"What?" she asked and Theon chuckled, the bitterness still in his voice.

"I've seen them together."

"You are lying."

"I'm not," Theon said, his tone now victorious. "Ask him. He's a wretched liar."

Kathryn was fuming then, taking several moments to gather her wits before she stormed off in the opposite direction. Rowan could smell her hair as she passed and couldn't help but smile at her current state.

Theon closed his door and Rowan was left alone in the corridors. His walk back to Enat's chambers was slow as he contemplated what he had just heard. But he knew he held very important information. His only worry now was what to do with it.

This time, getting lost had paid off.

* * *

**[Fallon]**

The flames of the fireplace burned late into the night as Fallon sat in Robb's bed her back up against the headboard and Robb's back leaning against her as she played with his auburn curls with a grin on her face.

They often spent late nights together in his room until the fire would burn out and she would leave before the sun rose. She had become so used to falling asleep with the warmth of his body closeby and found that when she slept alone she would sometimes wake up reaching for him. She hated all the sneaking around. But if they wanted their time together, this was the life they had to live. One of secrets and whispers, of kisses in corners when no one was looking and hands held away from prying eyes.

It was enough to drive her mad.

But no matter how frustrating it was, she couldn't get enough of him. She had never felt so alive under his touch and no matter the risk, there was no stopping her now. All reason had gone out the window and she was left at the mercy of her heart and the things she felt in the arms of Robb Stark.

Another night together seemed to flee just as fast as their time in the forest. They had stayed up late into the night, Robb telling her stories of Winterfell when he was a boy. He was surprisingly bad at telling stories, she decided. He always tried to skip the best bits and she would laugh and tell him to go back and explain what he'd tried to glaze over. But she enjoyed them nonetheless. Stories of Robb as a wide-eyed child running across the moors with Jon and Theon.

"You skipped the part about you falling into the mud," she said through a fit of giggles and he looked up at her from where his head was not resting in her lap.

"You've heard this story five times already. Can I not spare myself more embarrassment by skipping that bit this time?" he asked her and she shook her head. "Well if you know it so well, why don't you tell it?"

"Because I like the way you tell it," she insisted, kissing the top of his head.

"You like to hear me make a fool of myself you mean?" he added, touching the ends of her hair that fell near his face, the plaited hair wrapped nicely at the end in a green ribbon that matched her eyes. "I have told enough stories, it's your turn."

"Perhaps the time for stories has passed," she whispered pressing her lips against his, both of them smiling.

He pulled himself out of her lap and crawled back up towards her, sliding her small form underneath him where he could feel her body pressed up against him. Her nightgown was thin enough that he could feel the warmth of her breasts on his bare chest. Her knees were bent, resting on either side of his hips as they lie there, their lips attached and their hearts intertwined. He let his hand travel up over the soft skin of her knee, then under the thin fabric of her nightgown over her thighs. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to her.

He didn't want to stop, he wanted all of her then, feeling his desire continuing to grow. But he also knew that they shouldn't continue down this path or neither would be able to control what would inevitably happen. But her grasp was tight and his self-control was fading.

It was the knock at the door that interrupted them, pulling his lips from hers as they both glanced at the door. It was late, they knew that. But still a knock was heard and Fallon immediately climbed out of his bed and searched for a place to hide.

"Just a minute," he said to the knocker as he pulled his tunic on and watched Fallon slide under his bed where she wouldn't be spotted.

When he unlocked the door, he saw that it was Kathryn standing there, looking furious as she barged in, looking around the room suspiciously.

"Kathryn," he said, surprised. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I have been hearing some nasty rumors Robb," she said angrily, glancing at the bed. It was, of course a mess, but it was also the middle of the night and Robb did his best to look as though he had just been awoken.

"What are you talking about? It's the middle of the night," he told her and she stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I heard some rumors, that you have been spending a lot of time with Fallon, as of late," she asked him, looking around as she asked him.

"I am hearing accusations, so what are you really asking me?" he asked, annoyed with her tone. Perhaps he was sneaking around with Fallon, and they both knew it was wrong. But he and Kathryn weren't married yet nor did they love one another. Maybe he should have felt bad, held himself accountable, but for some reason he couldn't. He couldn't condemn his feelings for the woman currently hiding under the bed.

"Are you having an affair Robb, tell me," she asked, gritting her teeth.

"No," he said honestly, or as honestly as he could. "Did someone tell you I was?"

"Perhaps," she said quietly, walking over towards the bed. Robb tried not to look where Fallon was hiding, and instead kept his eyes on the tapestry on the wall across from him. She paused near the bed and sat down at the edge.

"It's late, Kathryn. Go to bed," he said sternly.

"She's leaving you know," she whispered. "She's going back to Skagos to live her savage lifestyle. And she won't be back."

"Yes, I am aware."

She stood then, walking back over to him until she stood nearly face to face with him. She was taller than Fallon, tall enough that he didn't have to look down much to catch her eye. Her brows were still furrowed angrily.

"Well then," she whispered. "I'm sure you are also aware that I have no intentions of leaving. I intend to be your wife, Robb." He wasn't sure what to say to that, he only nodded. "I am not going to let her stand in the way of that. And you may think me some naive girl, but I am not so naive that I do not know you have feelings for her."

"My feelings?" he asked her, a bitter laugh following. She knew nothing of his feelings for Fallon. She only knew what she thought she saw. That wasn't even the beginning.

"You can feel whatever you want, but I beg you to keep your distance from her," she whispered harshly. "She will only bring you pain in the end. Of that, I can assure you."

And without another word she walked out, slamming the door to solidify the tantrum she was throwing as she ran back to her rooms. Robb wasn't sure what she meant by her statement regarding Fallon, but he knew that Kathryn liked to play games and he wasn't interested in her desire to control him. He would not be controlled.

"We are not being careful enough," Fallon whispered from behind him. He turned to see her looking up at him, her plaited hair undone as she placed her hands on his chest. "Someone has seen us."

"No one has seen us," he said, still feeling bothered by Kathryn's warnings. "We can hide our affection Fallon but I cannot always hide the way I feel for you. I'm sure she isn't blind."

"You should take care not to show me so much favor," Fallon said seriously.

"You are the only one I care to favor," he said, stroking her cheek, his thumb lightly touching her lips.

"Just," she started to say but then sighed. "Just do not anger her too much. There is no telling what she might do if provoked." Robb pulled her chin up so her eyes met his. He smiled.

"Do not fret, my love," he said reassuringly. "There is nothing she can do to hurt us."

Fallon didn't look quite convinced at his words, but gave him a small smile, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly before he planted a kiss over it. He didn't want her to worry about Kathryn. The girl liked to use threats to get her way, but he had never before seen her follow through. She wanted to marry Robb, therefore she wouldn't do anything to harm him.

It was only Fallon who wasn't convinced.

* * *

**[Enat]**

"You must tell her!" Enat whispered harshly as she pulled the dress out of the wardrobe, setting it on Fallon's bed.

Rowan had been pacing the room since they'd both walked in, finding the chambers empty and he'd started, again, spouting the story he'd relayed to her the previous night. But he wasn't convinced of what he should do with the information. Enat on the other hand thought Fallon should be told immediately.

"Why must she know at all?" he asked and Enat glared up at him as she stitched a few of the sleeves that were starting to stretch.

"Why must she know? Rowan, we are talking about your sister! Fallon loves a man she believes she can never be with because he is betrothed. Now you are telling me his betrothed is having relations with one of his men?"

"Are we even sure Fallon isn't doing the exact same thing?" Rowan asked then. It wasn't that he disapproved exactly. He had been the one to push his sister to Robb in the first place and their connection was only natural. It was only a matter of time before the two became lovers. But Kathryn and Theon doing the same thing was none of his concern.

"Fallon deserves to know," Enat insisted.

"Well I won't be the one to tell her, and neither will you," he said sternly and Enat laughed as he tried to command her.

"And why not? Kathryn has insulted her. You said so yourself!"

"Kathryn has insulted us all Enat! Fallon is a bigger person than to let a few ugly names upset her," Rowan said.

"Then you at least have a responsibility to Robb," Enat said, her hands on her hips. "He should know that Theon is sneaking around with his betrothed. To know what kind of man he's trusting with his life."

"So he can condemn the man to chains?" Rowan asked angrily. "From the way it sounded, the girl means to marry Robb."

"And from the way it sounded, Theon wanted to take her away!" Enat snapped.

Both Rowan and Enat glared at one another as they often had in the past when they argued. Neither wanted to back down and from the way it looked now, neither was going to.

"And if I say something, that will never happen," Rowan said calmly. Enat furrowed her brow in confusion. "If Theon manages to convince her to leave, then it will be Kathryn who breaks the engagement."

"He would be free of his burden," Enat whispered in realization.

"Yes," he said. "But if I tell him, he will be obligated as Lord of Winterfell to act on it. Do you think he would thank me for being the reason he must scorn his closest friend."

"But is Theon a friend for what he has done?"

"Everyone knows Robb doesn't love her. Theon would never have touched her otherwise."

"You clearly don't know him very well," Enat said, rolling his eyes.

"We can't say anything, at least not yet," Rowan said and Enat started to nod her head.

"Can't say anything about what?" they both heard, turning their heads towards the door where Fallon was now standing with an apple in her hand, leaning against the door frame.

Enat was quickest to react.

"Oh Rowan!" she said swatting his shoulder. He looked at her as if she was crazy. "I told you not to say anything. I didn't want her to know."

"What?!" he asked with a confused expression on his face.

"You've spoiled the surprise," she said and he started to catch on to her ploy. Fallon on the other hand, had a raised eyebrow in suspicion.

"What's going on you two?" Fallon asked with a grin.

"Well, go on tell her about the trip to the village, now that you've ruined it," Enat said and Rowan looked over at his sister who was now glancing at him expectantly.

"We wanted to surprise you, or he did really," he said carefully, looking to Enat who nodded. "Robb has planned for us to go to the village festival, after breakfast." Fallon smiled.

"I knew he was hiding something," she said. "He told me he had appointments in White Harbor, that we were going to miss the festival." She took another bite of her apple as she contemplated the surprise. She then started back out the door, leaving Enat and Rowan looking at one another with wide eyes. They waited several moments before either one spoke.

"You nearly blew it," Enat said and they spent the next half hour arguing over who had had been the one to nearly spill their secret. All the while, ignoring the fact that one of them would have to tell Robb...

...eventually.

* * *

**[Fallon]**

She was nearly done with her apple as she walked excitedly through the corridors, her smile not leaving her face. She'd just overheard Rowan and Enat talking about Robb's surprise for her and her previous disappointment at missing the festival was now replaced with the buzzing feeling of anticipation. She had been wanting to go for months.

She had just rounded the corner leading towards the main stairwell when she then felt a hand over her mouth as someone pulled her towards the dark corner behind the statue shaped like a direwolf. She tried to struggle but was soon face to face with her attacker, who donned a large grin as he removed his hand.

Robb.

Her smile was larger now as she stood there, trying to calm her now speeding heart from the panic it had previously started building. She swatted him on the shoulder.

"You scared me," she whispered and she looked around briefly to find that there was no one else in sight. He responded by kissing her swiftly.

"I'm sorry, love," he said quietly, then aiming his kisses towards her jawline and her neck before she started giggling slightly.

"This is not exactly the type of subtlety I was was talking about, Robb," she said, amused but he only covered her reprimanding lips with his own. Biting down on them lightly until she moaned his name. She pulled away slightly, catching her breath and glanced up at him with a knowing smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a horse, halfway to White Harbor by now?" she asked him and he placed his hands on the wall that she was pushed up against and looked at her expression curiously.

"Someone told you," he said after several moments and she tried to hide her smile, unsuccessfully.

"Told me what?" she said, looking away and he laughed.

"Who ruined the surprise?" he asked her, looking like a dejected child.

"So we are going to the festival?" she asked excitedly and as he nodded, she threw her arms around his neck.

"It's just as well that someone finally told you," Robb told her. "It was hard seeing you mope around every time someone brought up the subject."

"You are the sweetest man I know, Lord Stark," she whispered against his lips before standing back upright and urging him back into the corridor.

"Come on, woman," he said endearingly. "The quicker we get you some breakfast, the quicker we can get you to that festival."

They staggered their arrival into the dining hall. Robb went first and sat down in his usual spot where Kathryn was sitting to the his right. Fallon made her way down some time after, finding it very frustrating to have to wait so long in between their entrances. When she finally did walk in, she sat down across the table from Robb and Kathryn, right in between Rowan and Rickon, per usual.

She was too excited to eat much, but she did enjoy the chatter at the table as Bran told Fallon of all of his favorite things they'd be seeing at the festival. Several times she glanced quickly at Robb who was laughing with Rickon and Bran at the stories they were telling. She liked the smile on his face, she decided and was excited that they would be spending the day together, without Kathryn who seemed to have other plans of her own for the day, that didn't include going to 'a festival full of peasants', or so she described it.

But when Fallon glanced up at the blond sitting across from her, something caught her eye that made her smile fade slowly. All sound seemed to quiet as her eyes were glued to the object in question and she had all but blocked out the laughter around her as she shifted uncomfortably.

There in front of her, Kathryn was pushing her hair over her shoulder, and holding it together was a vibrant, green ribbon that Fallon would recognize anywhere. Embroidered with flowers that only grew on the southernmost part of Skagos, was the ribbon Fallon's mother had given to her years ago. But it was Kathryn's hair it was tying back. And suddenly, Fallon understood.

She knew.

Kathryn knew.

* * *

A/N: Yay, another chapter. I busted this one out as quickly as I could so I hope you guys enjoyed it! I know there was a lot of fluffyduffy moments but I wanted to get them in before a lot of the heavy stuff started. I hope the story isn't too slow-paced, I'm trying to move along with the story and the book but you'll start recognizing more of the GoT story in the next chapter. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed what I wrote and I am so excited by all of the positive reviews. I would name you all specifically but I don't want to accidentally leave anyone out. But I can assure you each and every one of your reviews have inspired me and make me smile like an idiot every time I read them. Thank you so much! xoLola


	12. Chapter 12

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Note:** I noticed there wasn't much feedback on the last chapter, and I can only assume you guys weren't a fan of it. Apologies. Here's another chapter that will hopefully redeem your faith in me and this story. As I had done with a previous chapter, I have pulled some of the dialogue from the book (this time the show) and the credit for that goes to the writers. I am only changing a few bits and pieces and of course adding the descriptions and things from my own words. Again, sorry if you weren't a fan of that last chapter. xoLola

* * *

**[Fallon]**

The winter town was full with festive spirit. The harvest was upon them and the villagers were celebrating with music and merriment. The clouds were a friendly shade of grey that kept the spirits rising. The festival would go well into the night, she was told. It was tradition to pay homage to the harvest moon and the old gods on the eve of the harvest.

Fallon had been fighting back the feeling of dread deep in her stomach as she walked through the village, Rickon dragging her towards his favorite events where she would do her best to smile and not recall the image of the green ribbon Kathryn Ashford now donned in her blond hair.

She remembered the last time she had been wearing it, the night Kathryn had stormed into Robb's chambers throwing around accusations. Fallon had been wearing it then to hold her plaited hair. She remembered because Robb had asked her where she'd gotten it. She could only imagine she'd lost it when hiding quickly under the bed. Had Kathryn found it then?

If that were the case, then Robb's protests to Kathryn's accusations were all for naught. She would know that Fallon had been there and she would know that Robb's lies were meant to hide that. If they were found out, then it could mean any number of things. That was the problem with Kathryn, she was unpredictable with her games. She'd warned Robb that Fallon would only bring him pain. To Fallon, that meant there was already a plan in the young girl's mind.

And there would be no stopping it.

"Fallon did you hear me?" Rickon said and she looked down at the boy holding her hand.

"Sorry, Love," she said with a smile, bending down to his height. "What was it you said?"

"The archery contest is starting, come on," he told her, pulling her over towards the crowd of people near the field where ten men, including Theon, were preparing to begin the traditional contest of the archers.

Rickon pulled her until they were squeezing through several people. She apologized as they bumped into them and they eventually opened up a spot, generously, when seeing Fallon and Rickon were much too short to stand behind the tall men. They were at the front, standing where Fallon could lean against the wooden fence. Rickon climbed so that he was standing taller than she was, looking out at the archers with excitement as they began shooting their targets.

Rickon's joyous smile was enough to content Fallon and cause her to temporarily disregard the images of Kathryn's fury in her mind. She could hear Bran's shouts of excitement in the back of the crowd as he sat upon Hodor's shoulders. She took cheered Theon as he shot target after target, hitting the bullseye on each of them with his expert form. She knew he'd be eating up the attention, only inflating his oversized ego. But at least this time, he deserved it.

Theon was in first place as the contest went on. It had been some time as they stood there with the cheering crowd, when soon she felt a hand over hers and she looked to her right where Robb was now standing. He didn't look down at her, only looked out into the field with a smile played upon his lips. Their hands were hidden by their fur-lined cloaks. She could feel the warmth of his hand even through the barrier of their gloves and felt her stomach leap like it did every time he touched her.

She remembered the first time their hands had touched, accidentally grazing fingertips out by the fire during the King's visit to Winterfell. Back then she'd felt the spark of curiosity growing within her. But now she was alight with a fire burning for this man and she was sure nothing could douse it.

His gloved hand stroked the skin on her wrist and she had difficulty concentrating on little else aside from the soft circles he was drawing. She glanced up at him once again and he still had his sights set on the archers. Rickon cheered loudly when Theon hit the farthest mark and she jumped at the proximity of the shout.

"For the second year, our champion!" the announcer shouted, lifting Theon's hand in the air as the crowd cheered. There were a few jeers from friends of the other contestants, but most turned into laughs. It was a time for merriment and many were too drunk in the spirit to make a big deal of anything so trivial.

Albertha was enjoying herself in her last few days at Winterfell and the festival was a great way for her to celebrate before heading back to the Vale to her home. Not long after her arrival they'd found out she was with child. Fallon had been overjoyed for her sister who had yet to have any children with her husband. Now that she was expecting, she wanted to be back at Longbow Hall with Eustace.

"Fallon!" she heard and she turned quickly to see Rowan and Albertha waving her over excitedly. They were standing near where a group of villagers were dancing merrily. She grinned, not letting go of Robb's hand as she led him and Rickon over towards them.

"They're playing 'the Iron Lances.' You love that song," Enat said excitedly as she joined the pair.

"You know the Iron Lances?" Robb asked her and Fallon laughed.

"Of course we do," she told him, letting go of his hand to join Enat and her siblings. "I may be from a savage land, My Lord, but we do have music."

"I didn't mean.." he started to say but he stopped as she turned and walked into the crowd, holding Enat's hands.

The dance was one they'd known since young girls, one that was known throughout all of the North, including beyond the Wall and Skagos. The steps were ingrained in her memory. She closed her eyes as the words were sung, the rousing song of heroism. She lifted her long dress as she skipped and hopped. Rickon joined in as well and Fallon helped him with the steps as their laughter filled the air.

She danced until her feet were sore and the sun began to set in the village. There was a wealth of food to be had and Fallon had a great deal of wine until she was feeling as if she were floating. The feeling rose quickly within her as she smiled, her eyes watching the sun setting over the moors. Shouts of excitement were still heard and the music played loudly over the roar of participants in the well known dances she'd been learning at Winterfell.

But she found herself in need of quiet and she made her way around the side of one of the shops towards the edge of the forest nearby. There was a large weirwood there, standing tall against the winds that rushed through it's branches. Darkness was falling but she could still see the flame-colored leaves above.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Robb's voice whispered behind her and she turned to him with a wide grin, the wine in her veins giving her a giddy disposition.

"Why? When I have you watching after me?" she joked, wrapping her arms around his neck. She craned her neck and stood on her toes so she could kiss him on his lips. He, too, was grinning from ear to ear, and the taste of whiskey was strong on his tongue.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," he said when he pulled back, stroking her hair and she nodded.

"I don't know how I'll survive the week though," she joked. "I'll have my fill of excitement before long and it's only the first day."

"You haven't even seen the joust yet," he told her and she couldn't help but laugh.

"You and your jousting," she mocked. "Will I get you to dance with me?" she pleaded and he looked hesitant. "We've been practicing, I know you know a few on your own. Rowan told me he saw you practicing in the hall just yesterday."

"Please remind me to have a few words with that brother of yours," he said with an embarrassed grin.

"Well?" she asked, nodding towards where the music was growing louder.

"Wouldn't you much rather stay here with me? I can kiss you and you can tell me how brave I'll be for winning the joust in your name," he offered but she only giggled.

"Even if you could were to tell you such silly things, Mo Faol, we both know you cannot name me tomorrow," she whispered, kissing his stubbled jaw. It tickled her face and she laughed as he pulled her up into his arms.

"I will name if you if I wish," he joked stubbornly. "Don't you want to be my Queen of the Harvest?"

"It is a tempting offer," she teased. "I cannot think of a more flattering title, than to be the Queen of the Harvest."

"You wound me, my love," he told her in mock disappointment.

"Come, let me wound your manly reputation further," she told him, pulling him in the direction of the dance.

"I will dance with you," he said and she grinned excitedly. "But," he added. "Let me see that my brothers are taken up to the castle and then I will let you embarrass me in front of all the Northern Lords to your hearts content."

"Well hurry up then," she said impatiently, watching as he ran off towards where Hodor and a few of the guards were sitting with Bran and Rickon.

She walked until she reached the backside of one of the shops and leaned against it's wall for support as she awaiting Robb's return. The song was ending and there were claps and cheers as the musicians debated on which song would be next.

It was then that she heard several footsteps in the grass nearby and she turned to see two figures on the other side of the wall near where she was concealed by the dark side of the wall not lit by lanterns and torches. She could hear the whispers of harsh words but could not recognize the voices until the larger figure rose his voice.

"You're not to say anything, do you hear me?!" he commanded, his voice harsh. Fallon knew the voice belonging to the champion archer, Theon. At the sound of the second voice, her eyes widened.

"I am thinking Lord Stark would want to know his ward is taking his soon-to-be bride to bed before him," was Enat's threatening voice.

Fallon wasn't sure what she was overhearing, or how it had been prompted, but if they were saying what she thought they were saying, then she was in a very dangerous position to be eavesdropping, as was Enat for being the one to bring forth such accusations.

"You open up that Skagg mouth of yours and I swear I'll slit that pretty throat of yours!" he replied and Fallon searched for the small dagger she kept on her belt.

"You think he won't find out? About your little tryst with Kathryn?" she asked and Fallon heard the sound of Theon's hand against the woman's cheek. Fallon's hand went up to her mouth to cover the sound of her gasp. The dagger was out of it's sheath but she didn't move, waiting to see if she would need to attack. Enat could take care of herself, she knew. But she refused to let Theon lay his hands on her again.

"He won't be finding out from the likes of you," he said darkly. "Now go back to the castle, Bran and Rickon need to get to bed."

There was another shuffle of footsteps and mumbled whispers before she realized they had gone. She didn't feel safe leaving the spot she stood in until the shadows were far from view and the next song has started to cover the sounds of her own steps. She made her way out into the crowds of people by the dancing where she bumped into several people as she tried to keep her balance. The wine was heavy in her stomach as were the thoughts she was trying to process, the words she thought she overheard.

Theon and Kathryn?

She leaned over, her stomach suddenly feeling as if she might be sick and held on to the nearest post within grasp. It was too much, she thought. She was angry at herself for overhearing a secret that was so damaging, for now being responsible for telling Robb something that could ruin so much for his family.

"My Lady?" a man said nearby, placing a hand on her back as she bent over and she glanced up to see it was one of the Lord's sons that Robb had introduced her to. Cley Cerwyn was a year her junior but was tall enough that Fallon though he was several years older than he actually was. "You look unwell," he said and she nodded.

"Too much wine, I expect," she lied, or at least she thought it was a lie. She tried to stand but clasped onto his arm to keep her balance as she took in several breaths. It was several moments before she could see straight. When she looked up from where her eyes were previously glued to the ground she saw Robb walking quickly towards her.

"Are you alright?" he asked when he reached her side and she didn't take his hand when he offered it, only looked quickly from his eyes to Cley and then back before Robb understood. But he didn't seem to care as he placed his arm around her waist.

"I'm fine, I've just had my fill is all. From the wine," she tried to explain offhandedly but the concern on his features did not disappear. She was about to explain further about her wine intake when suddenly four men on horses rode up towards the edge of town. Robb's attention, hers as well, was now focused on the urgency with which the men were riding. Seeing Hallis Mollen, Winterfell's captain of the guards in Jory's absence, was the face that caused that feeling in her stomach to return.

"Something's wrong," he whispered and she nodded as they both walked quickly over to where the horses were searching for him. All the while, holding her hand stiffly in his with seemingly no intention of letting go.

"Milord!" Hal shouted, dismounting his horse.

"What is it?" Robb asked, his voice stern.

"A letter, from King's Landing. "They said it was urgent for you, from the Hand of the King."

"Here," Robb offered, reaching out his free hand to Hal who quickly placed the letter in his hands.

Robb tore open the letter quickly, not bothering to be gentle with the parchment. Fallon could see the script, written in Lord Eddard Stark's handwriting. The words were written with urgency, she could see the slant in the letters and the distorted lines it what was usually the neat script of the Hand. And then the words started to make sense. Her hand fell from Robb's grasp as he, too, took in the message his father was relaying.

"He's been, arrested," Robb said, his tone disbelieving at first. "Treason."

"Milord?" Hal said, just as confused as she was, shaking her head, her hand over her mouth in shock.

"How can this be?" Fallon asked. "Robb surely it is a mistake."

But Robb didn't say anything, no words came to mind as his eyes flew over the words again and again. She looked up at Hal.

"When did this come?" she asked quickly and Hal looked at the soldier to his right, Garreth.

"Milady it came just before dusk. We had received it by rider from White Harbor and another message not long before by raven. The raven said a rider would be coming, that we were to deliver it to Lord Robb immediately," Garreth said, his tone nervous and she placed her own shaking hand over his.

"It's alright, you did well," she assured him and he nodded, stepping back to where his horse was standing, agitated by the shouts and crowds.

She turned to Robb who had yet to tear his eyes from the letter. Theon was now approaching, Hal updating him on the situation and he looked wide-eyed at Robb. Fallon couldn't bear to meet his questioning gaze when he looked to her.

"Robb?" she asked quietly. It was several moments before she placed her hand on his arm and slowly, he looked up.

"Treason is punishable by death," he whispered and she stared at him a long moment before she nodded, understanding his pain. She'd received a letter like this once. But there was hope to be had, Lord Stark had seen to that.

"The King won't let it get to that," she started but then then stopped as her eyes saw his expression.

"The King is dead," he said slowly and her brows furrowed as she looked back at the letter.

Nothing seemed to make sense. Eddard Stark arrested for treason, plotting against the crown? It didn't fit. They were the same charges her father had received, the same crimes she knew her father also could not have committed. And yet both were charged and sentencing had yet to be passed on Robb's father. Surely they'd spare him.

"You should go," she said finally, looking away as she held her stomach, the feeling returning that caused her to cringe. "You should write to Lady Stark, and your sisters. They will need reassurance."

"You need to call the banners," Theon interrupted and both Fallon and Robb shook their heads.

"And if I call the banners and my father is spared?" Robb countered and Theon frowned.

"You will look weak if you do not," Theon argued.

"And he could be accused a traitor to the crown if he does so now," Fallon said sternly. "We already have one Stark facing the ax, do you mean to place another's neck in jeopardy?"

"So you propose we do nothing? Just like we did nothing when the Lannisters openly attacked your father? Killed Jory?" Theon said in disgust.

"Marching on King's Landing would not have prevented this," she whispered.

"And how do you know!?" Theon shouted at her but Robb stepped between them. It was the first time she had seem Robb openly oppose Theon in front of her.

"She is not the one we should be opposing," Robb replied, his voice commanding and dark. "I will write to my sisters and to my mother. She might not have even heard yet." He then looked to Fallon. "You can ride back up to the castle with me," he insisted but she shook her head.

"I need to find Rowan," she explained. "I will ride back with him at once."

She saw him nod distractedly, walking in the direction of the stables where Conall was tied. He looked back over his shoulder once and caught her eye and she nodded, reassuringly, trying to hide any signs of uncertainty.

It was courage he would need now; courage for whatever was to come.

* * *

**[Enat]**

Fallon stood as still as she could while Enat sewed on the sleeve of the dress she was making. The gown was a beautiful shade of green, the color of House Magnar's banners. It had been nearly a week since Robb had received word from King's Landing, and he had yet to get a reply from Sansa. Enat couldn't help but wonder if things in King's Landing were worse than Fallon had initially expected.

Neither Enat nor Fallon had discussed the possibility of House Magnar going to war. They were already at war with the hill tribes, while simultaneously dealing with the attacks on Kingshouse and the Magnar family members. Both knew that eventually Robb would have to call his bannermen. And all the noble houses of Skagos would be called to fight. That meant her brothers, and Aedan as well.

And of course there was another issue Fallon and Robb had been avoiding. She had only discussed it with Enat briefly, but she could tell by looking at her friend, even now, that the issue was weighing on her.

"You know you will have to discuss it will him eventually," she whispered through the side of her mouth, holding a needle between her teeth as she pulled the top of the dress and the sleeve tightly together.

"I am not sure that is a priority matter," Fallon replied, annoyed. Enat ignored the bite in her friend's tone, knowing that she was dealing with more than a girl of her age should ever have to.

"You have not been to his chambers since-"

"Enat," Fallon warned.

"I just mean, he might need some comfort, is all," Enat tried to explain. "He might have to go to war and you've abandoned his bed." Fallon sighed.

"It is not like that," Fallon told her. "Robb and I have not...I would just rather not wake up alone most nights. I thought he would want space now."

"I saw your bedsheets untouched each morning, I just assumed-" Enat apologized but Fallon waved it off.

"It is alright, I know how it must look, me sneaking into my own rooms before dawn each morning," Fallon said distractedly.

Enat could see the worry in her friend's eyes. She hardly ever talked of Robb if she could help it, knowing Fallon would just ignore the statements as if there wasn't something going on between them. They used to share everything as girls, all their secrets. It wasn't as if Fallon was hiding things from her, but it was clear she wasn't as forthcoming with the information as she once was. Then again, Enat had yet to tell her about Kathryn and Theon. It made her just as guilty.

"I know you don't want to speak of it," she whispered, pausing her sewing. "But you both saw what was in that letter. Do you think you both can continue to ignore it?"

"Of course not," she replied. "But he has more important matters to worry over. I cannot bother him with this. Not now, not yet."

"And what if he calls his banners? Marches South? Will it not be too late by then?" Enat asked seriously. "Men do not always return from war, Fallon. You know how dangerous the life of a soldier can be."

"He and I both knew this day would come, though I had not thought it would be so soon," Fallon admitted. "What he and I were doing, it was foolish and reckless and not without expiration. We had our moment and now that moment is coming to its end."

"Something else plagues you," Enat said, her brow furrowed as she calculated the look in Fallon's eyes.

"It is nothing."

Enat knew it was not 'nothing' as Fallon was insisting but she didn't pursue it further. If she did, she might have to come clean about the secret of her own. Even Rowan didn't know she had disregarded their agreement and gone to Theon to expose him. She cringed at the thought of the bruise she'd hidden under her hair, received as an answer for her threats. Theon hadn't looked at her since. But more importantly, he'd kept his distance from Kathryn, or at least it seemed that way.

"You should go to him," Enat said but Fallon looked unsure.

"He's been in the study all morning. He's received correspondence from several of the Lords who have heard the news. Rowan says it is only a matter of time."

"Will Broden come?" Enat asked and Fallon nodded.

"He does not have a choice, does he. He is Robb's bannerman, just as your uncle is."

It was true, Lord Crowl was Enat's uncle through her deceased mother. He was a hard man, one that constantly spoke ill of Westeros. He bowed only to the Magnar, he'd always say. He was not alone is his way of thinking. Fallon often downplayed the role her family played in Skagos when she told her stories to the Starks. But to warriors and Lords of Skagos, House Magnar was above the others. The Magnar family descended from Kings, just as the Starks did. But House Crowl would heed the call if it was sent, just as Broden would as Lord of Kingshouse.

Enat finished the last stitch of the gown and stepped back to take in her handiwork. It was lovely, bringing out the shine in Fallon's eyes. Fallon was small, but she was fierce. She could have great influence if she would only allow herself to be heard.

"Go," Enat insisted again. "At the very least, find out what is going on."

Moments passed as Fallon toyed with the edge of her hair and she finally nodded, walking out the door, leaving Enat alone to contemplate what was to happen next.

Fallon was freed from Lord Stark's charge. She was granted her title and her life back. But now that she was given her freedom, Enat wasn't so sure that Fallon would want it.

* * *

**[Robb]**

Pacing had become his game, walking back and forth, back and forth in front of the firelight that kept the study warm from the icy winds outside the castle walls. His eyes were taking in the words, over and over he read them until he reached the end, and he would again start from the beginning and reread it as if it were the first time. But each time he came to the same conclusion.

"Sansa would not write this," Robb said finally, looking up where Theon, Maester Luwin and Rowan were sitting, watching him patiently as they waited.

"It is your sister's hand," Maester Luwin agreed. "But the Queen's words. You're summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new king."

"Joffrey puts my father in chains, now he wants his arse kissed?" Robb spat. The faces of the other young men, even Maester Luwin showed that they agreed it was a ludicrous request. But of course, it wasn't a request.

"This is a royal command, My Lord," Luwin replied, reluctantly telling Robb that this was not a simple suggestion. This game had now turned into something more serious, more serious than Robb had ever experienced in all of his young years. "If you should refuse to obey-"

"I won't refuse," Robb replied curtly. "His Grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing. But not alone." Robb could feel everything inside of him shaking. If it was fear or fury, he did not know. Perhaps it was both welling up inside of him ready to explode. But he had to have courage now. He had to do what was required of him. "Call the banners."

It was a command, his first real command and the weight of it washed over the entire room. Theon smirked, his pleading for Robb to call the banners finally happening. Rowan looked at him curiously, knowing what this meant for him, for his brother, for his people.

"All of them My Lord?" Luwin asked, taking the letter as Robb handed it back.

"They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?" he asked.

"They have," Luwin whispered.

"Now we see what their words are worth."

Robb could see the uneasiness in the Maester's eyes. He was not in full agreement with this course of action as Robb was, but it was clear that he realized it was an inevitability. Both of them knew this was the course of action they were meant to take. Luwin would do as he was told, even if he was uneasy about this particular command. But it was too late for other options. The time for standing idly by, had long passed.

Luwin did not speak, only nodded as he exited the room, off to write the letters to the Lords of the North. Soon Robb would have to court men two, three, and even four times his own age to fight for him, to save his father. He wasn't sure he was ready, but he'd have to be.

As he sat down next to Theon, Rowan sitting across from them, the older of the three spoke.

"You afraid?" Theon asked. Robb wasn't sure how to answer until he looked down at his shaking hand. No matter how hard he tried he was unable to steady it.

"I must be," he answered honestly.

"Good."

"Why is that good?" Robb asked. He didn't understand how Theon could be so calm, so excited about it all.

"Means you're not stupid," he replied and for once the advice from Theon's lips was good.

"He's right," Rowan agreed. "Only a fool would be fearless in the face of war. In Skagos, we don't honor the fearless in our history, we honor the brave men who do what they must despite the danger they face."

He found Rowan's words comforting. He and Robb were the same age and already Rowan had seen more battles than Robb could even imagine. Perhaps it would be good to have him by his side.

"I'll write to my brother," Rowan said. "He will not refuse your call."

"What of war in Skagos?" Robb asked curiously and Rowan shook his head. "Will he even have enough men to send with what's going on there?"

"Savages rising up to take the lands, that's not war Robb. It happens every day. My brother can spare a thousand men, and still hold the mountain tribes without strain. Our men are skilled fighters, seasoned in battle. They will be of great use."

"Write to him then," Robb said and then turned to Theon. "And you write to Jon, though I'm sure he'll have heard."

Both men nodded, leaving Robb to his thoughts as he sat by the fire, listening to the wind howling outside the large window. It gave him chills just thinking of the cold that was coming, the winter that was soon to be upon them. His heart was racing, his choice was made.

There was a light knock on the door that pulled his eyes from their place on the fire.

"Enter," he said and watched as the large door of his lord father's study opened and the small figure dressed in green entered. "Fallon," he said, his voice almost a relieved whisper as he stood to greet her.

She was a beautiful sight, the green gown bright like her eyes that were now locked on his as he approached slowly. He felt his heart leap from his chest as she placed her hands on his chest. It had been several days since he'd had a moment alone with her, having known she was trying to keep her distance, just as he was trying to keep his. But now was not the time for keeping distance. Right now he needed her.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted," she said quietly but he shook his head. "I was on my way to see you when I saw my brother in the corridor. He said you are to call the banners?"

"I received a letter from Sansa, or rather the Queen," he explained and she nodded, her expression solemn.

"So," she whispered. "You go to war."

It wasn't a question. She knew it was happening.

"My father left me to defend the North, and now he needs our help. I will not bend my knee to her or her son."

"I do not question your decision Robb," she told him. "It is all just happening faster than I thought it would. You shouldn't be in this position. You should be enjoying life as young men do."

"And I wish my father were here in my place so it was not me," he said honestly. He had wished for his father's return more than anything, now more than ever. "I keep thinking, what would he do if he were in my place."

"He would do what you have done." Her words were quiet but firm. "He would be proud of you."

"I do not know if I can do this," he admitted. "I have no idea how to lead an army."

"You will learn. My brothers will help you, the lords bannermen will help you," she told him. She placed her hand over his stubbed jaw. "Men are not always prepared when they are thrust into war. But we must make do."

He pulled her closer, one hand on her waist and the other over hers.

"Why have you not come to me until now?" he asked and she did not look away as he thought she might. Which meant, she was expecting him to ask.

"You know why," she said simply.

He did know.

"My father has granted you freedom to go home," he whispered. "I thought you'd be happy."

"Happy to leave you?"

"I had hoped not happy to leave me, but I thought you'd be happy to have your life back," he explained and she looked conflicted.

"I cannot go home no more than your father can," her voice started to rise. "You think my brothers will send me back there, alone while they follow you into battle? And my life is no longer back in Skagos. Elsbeth and Corran are dead, my father beyond the Wall, who knows if I'll ever see him again. ALbertha has gone back to her husband, back to _her_ life. I have no idea where Broden is. Rowan is the only life I have left right now. I don't even have you."

"Of course you have me," he said, his hold tightening on her. But she was shaking her head.

"I have you here, in my arms right now," she whispered, the emotion building her voice that caused Robb's throat to swell. "But where will you be tomorrow? Or in a month? I cannot have a life with you _or_ without you. That leaves me with nothing."

Tears began falling down her face and the emotion between the two of them was now coming to a head. They could no longer avoid what neither of them was prepared to face, the possibility of goodbye, and that goodbye being forever. It was something Robb could not bear to stomach. He kissed her forehead and then her cheeks as the tears fell, closing his eyes as he did so as not to let her see the pain in his eyes as well.

"It is not goodbye," he whispered into her hair. "Not yet. We still have now."

"Only now," she said through a strangled sob.

She held back her weeping, staying as strong as she could as she wiped her tears. He leaned down enough that he could place his forehead against hers. He could see the torment in her green eyes but they were also mixed with something else, something familiar.

"Mo Faol," she said, her voice heavy. "I love you."

The words were full off of her lips, full with everything they felt in both of their hearts, bursting from within her soul.

"Agus," he whispered in the Old Tongue. "Ta gra agam duit."

It was enough for her, for both of them then as he whispered her same words back to her in her home language. He didn't know which of them pulled the other, but soon there was no space between them as their lips collided. There was nothing soft about this kiss, it was full of something more human, more savage than either of them could define.

He was overwhelmed by passion, by his need for her then. He lifted her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her towards the desk. He didn't bother to move anything, his attention was only on her, on their bodies and the sounds escaping her throat. He did not understand all the words she whispered as his hands slid up her calf that rested over his hip until he felt the warm skin of her thigh under his callused fingertips.

Some words he knew, others were spoken so quickly that he didn't have a chance to think about their meaning before he too called out her name in a hushed whisper against her neck. He then kissed each of her tears on her cheek, trailing down until their lips crashed back together. There was urgency in their touches, an urgency that grew with every passing second.

He had been with one woman before, a couple years prior. He'd have never even sought her out had it not been for Theon who had brought her to Robb's bed one night. She was a whore, Robb knew that despite Theon's protests that she was a local village girl. It had been quick and awkward and when it was done he had never seen the girl again.

This was different.

This was Fallon, his Fallon.

No words passed between them, only their eyes locked and a quick nod from her before they were one. Robb may have been with a woman before but never had he made love. This was making love. Two people overwhelmed in their desire and love for one another, like he and Fallon.

She didn't tense when he entered her, only gasped slightly, his name rolling off her tongue in a longing sigh. It wasn't ideal nor romantic the place or the time. He could have made love to her on silk sheets, candles lit and flowers everywhere, perhaps on their wedding night, or somewhere near the sea. He thought of those memories, the ones she had created for him that they would never have; pictured making love to her under the stars. But as she cried out for him, her hips rocking back, he knew there was no where but now just as there was no time but now. This was a memory they were making together, a real memory that he would have for always.

And no one could take that from either of them.

* * *

Outside the Northern winds blew, far from beyond the wall passed the Fist of the First Men all the way from the Land of Always Winter.

And with the dark clouds that now hung over the North, came it's first snow.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, the story is finally moving forward. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for your support. I can't wait to hear your feedback! xoLola**


	13. Chapter 13

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

**[Theon]**

"Did you come here to gloat?" she asked him, looking up from underneath her long, fair lashes as her maid combed through her flaxen locks. She was smiling from ear to ear as she sat there, her hands placed delicately in her lap as if she wasn't trying to insult him. "If so, I can tell you that you're wasting your time."

That was the best part, he realized. She had no idea of what was to come. And her time for taking up his offer had expired. He was leaving with Robb's army and the bannermen that had heeded their overlord's call. And she would be stuck here.

It almost pleased him to imagine her miserable. After all the harsh things she'd said about him. After she'd tossed him aside like something soiled and disgusting.

"You think I came here to gloat?" he asked her with a smirk. "And what, pray tell, would I have to gloat about?"

"Please," she said at his false tone. "We both know you came here to tell me that I have made some grave choice in staying. You're still embarrassed that I didn't leave with you when I had the chance. And now that Lord Stark has been imprisoned, you think I am trapped. It's all very flattering, you know. But I simply have my sights set on the bigger prize here. Robb is marching South to war, leaving me here to run Winterfell as Lady of the House until Lady Catelyn's return. When he becomes a hero at war, people will envy my position. The wife of the Warden in the North. Regardless of the outcome, my position will be secure once I have the Maester marry us. And my plan is to make that happen before Robb leaves in a few weeks time."

"You really think it's all working out for you, don't you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Jealousy is not a becoming trait on you, Theon," she said waving her maid away. Once the maid had left the room she placed her hand over his. Normally he would have found it a nice gesture, but that was before he realized what kind of games she played. This gesture was only meant to be condescending, at best. "You know it doesn't have to end, right? You and I can still share your bed from time to time. You are so well-versed in pleasing a woman," she whispered, stroking his cheek.

He pulled her hand away, grabbing her wrist and her smile faded.

"This is not one of your games anymore Kathryn," he said harshly. "Lord Stark might die, Robb might die. You think you'll be Lady of Winterfell without any heirs? You'll be considered an old maid before Bran's old enough to marry, if he'd even have you. And even then you'll bear him no children, not with him crippled."

"Robb will have heirs," she hissed, pulling her arm from his grip.

"Yes," he said, frowning. "But _you'll_ not be the one to give them to him."

Now it was her turn to frown. She stood, her eyes nearly level with his and she glared at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she whispered.

"Have you not heard who is helping Tywin Lannister back Joffrey's coronation? Or who was instrumental in bringing Lord Stark to his arrest?" When she didn't answer, Theon realized her father had yet to inform her. "House Ashford has pledged fealty to the new King, and renounced all ties with House Stark and the North."

Her eyes widened.

"He wouldn't-" she started, still in denial. He'd seen the letters she'd written to her family that she thought she hid so well. He knew she was planning on her father staking claim on Winterfell, hoping Robb fell in battle.

"He wrote Robb, you know, demanding that you be returned to the Reach. He sent a pretty wagon of gold along with the rider as well, told him it was payment for breaking your betrothal," he said, his smirk growing as she started shaking her head slowly. "Only problem is," he said shrugging. "Robb thinks you would be a good bargaining tool and sent a letter back to Lord Ashford, claiming you as his hostage, to stay at Winterfell until his father was freed."

"Robb would never keep me here against my will," she insisted but Theon laughed.

"Lord Stark would have done the same," he explained as he let go of her, tossing her wrist to her side and walking towards the door. "Now let's see how much you're worth to your father."

She ran after him as he closed the door behind him, locking it to insure she wouldn't run away before the guards were set on her room.

"You cannot do this! Theon you cannot keep me here!" she shouted as she pounded her small fists against the door. But he only smiled, though she could not see. "Theon!"

"As I recall, it was you who wanted to stay. I'm just giving you your wish."

And with those parting words he left her there, knocking against the door wildly, shouting after him.

And as he tossed the key up into the air, catching it with ease, he told himself that there was nothing sweeter than the taste of revenge.

* * *

**[Fallon]**

The wind was whispering along the moors, the light flakes of snow covering the hills that lead towards the castle. It crept lightly through windows and cracks, pushing itself into the once warm chambers and dancing across the flesh of the sleeping figure.

Fallon's shoulder was bare, as was the rest of her as she lie there, only a thin sheet covering the lower half of her body as she shivered. It was the whispering wind that woke her. The sun had yet to rise, hiding along the horizon in the East. Her eyes opened slowly, as she awoke. The large bed, belonging to Robb Stark, was much softer than hers, she decided and rolled over to tell her bedmate that she might take up his bed as her own when he was gone.

But as she rolled over, no bare body lie next to her. Auburn curls she'd expected were replaced only with an empty spot on the bed, the space cool and the dim light from the fire showing no one had been there for quite some time. She sat up, pulling one of the furs from the bed up to cover her now shivering skin as she looking around the room. No one looked back at her, only the emptiness and sound of a crackling fire kept her company.

Grey Wind was long gone from his place on the edge of the bed as well and she realized she was alone.

Panic arose within her as she stood, wrapping the fur around her as she walked towards the window. Outside she could see the castle wall, torches lighting the edge, exposing the grounds below. Those, too, were nearly empty, only a few guards passing by as they walked casually towards the wall, climbing to their posts and relieving the previous watchman.

But what was present, was evidence of horses, many horses she realized by the number of hoofprints littering the ground. The dirt was lightly covered in a layer of snow so thin, that it was mixed, leaving behind a wet mud that was disturbed by the hasty departure of a group of horses.

They were gone.

Her steps were desperate now as she ran across Robb's empty chambers, searching for her dressing gown and pulling it on with haste. The ties were lazy done up as she exited the room, running not a few doors down the corridor where Bran was resting. She opened the door clumsily, her heart racing as she entered the dark room, a deep growl startling her as she searching carefully for the bed.

"Summer," she whispered, trying to soothe the ill-temper of the direwolf on the edge of Bran's bed. Soon the growls were silence and she began fumbling with the candle on the nightstand, lighting it so she was then able to see Bran's eyes looking back at her.

"Fallon?" he said, his voice hoarse as he tried to sit up but she urged him back down.

"Shh...don't get up," she whispered, pushing back his hair from his face. His nose scrunched slightly in confusion, in a manner that reminded her greatly of Robb. "Was he here?" she asked and she could tell by his downcast eyes that she didn't have to elaborate one who she meant.

"Yes, he came to say goodbye," he told her and Fallon felt her throat begin to swell.

"When?" she asked quickly. "When did he come, how long ago?" He glanced at the window, looking out at the dark sky and then back to Fallon.

"It was before they lit the torches," he explained. "Fallon you aren't going after him are you? Robb told you to stay here. How am I supposed to run Winterfell without you here to help me."

"Bran," she whispered, grabbing his hand in hers. "I don't know the first thing about being Lord of a castle. That's what Maester Luwin is here for. He's much more clever when it comes to that sort of thing."

"But what if _I_ don't want you to go?" it wasn't Bran's voice who said it though it was clear he was about say something very similar.

The voice belonged to the youngest Stark. Rickon stood at the doorway, Shaggydog by his side. She couldn't see his face very well in the dim lighting, but she could tell by the sound of his sniffles that he was crying. She stood and walked towards him, picking him up in her arms and kissing his forehead.

"Don't cry, my love," she whispered. "You need to be brave, and keep Enat safe. She'll need someone to look after her when I'm gone."

"But everyone's left us," he said, his voice catching. "Father, Mother, Arya and Sansa, Jon. And now Robb. If you leave us we'll be all alone."

"You are never alone, Rick," she said with a sad grin, trying not to let the tears fall from her eyes. "You are a Stark. The Starks always have a friend on their side."

"We could go with you," he pleaded but she shook her head, wiping his tears as he clung to her, his arms around her neck.

"What is it your Father always says?" she quizzed and he shook his head, not wanting to answer.

"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell," Bran finished, a sad whisper leaving his lips. She looked over her shoulder at him and nodded.

"That's right. Now, I'm not a Stark. But you two are. And you two must be here to guard the North. You can do that can't you?" she asked and both reluctantly nodded. "Just like Drustan the Younger. Do you remember?"

"He guarded the seat of the Magnar, kept the barbarians from the East from invading while his father was at war," Bran replied.

"Yes and he did it all at age twelve. Not much older than you Bran," he said. "Drustan did it all alone, and here there are two of you. I know you'll keep the North safe until your father returns."

"Will he return?" Rickon asked and Fallon smiled.

"Of course," she whispered, knowing that her answer sounded more certain than it should have. "Robb is going to bring him home."

Rickon hugged her then, the hard embrace full of sorrow as he cried into her hair. At her side Shaggydog was whimpering helplessly, pawing at her leg as he tried to sooth his boy. She carried Rickon to Bran's bed, laying him down next to his brother. His direwolf hopped up onto the bed next to him as she pulled his arms off of her and kissed him one last time.

"It is goodbye for now-" she said, whispering the words she once used to say to Corran.

"-but not forever," Bran finished, wrapping his arms around her neck.

She left the room swiftly, without looking back for fear that she might let her tears fall. She closed the door, letting the sound of Rickon's muffled sobs disappear as she made her way towards where her chambers were located.

She entered the room, holding her throat as the lump grew larger. It was bothersome, to say the least. The ache had become a hinderance as she ruffled through her wardrobe, pulling a few of her simple gowns out and placing them in a bag on her bed. She pulled on a pair of riding trousers and lastly pulled on her warmest fur coat.

She left the room just as quickly as she'd come. The bag hanging over her shoulders as she ran down towards the kitchens, the sound of her boots loud on the stone floors. The kitchen was well-stocked still, she noticed, though much of the meat and grain had been devoted to the army. There was still enough bread, however, that she would last until she found the camp if they weren't still gathering in the Winter town. Fallon grabbed just enough that nothing would be missed and threw the sack over her shoulder.

The wind was blowing harshly against her skin once she reached the outside. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her hair and rushed towards the stables. Time seemed to be fleeting, she thought. There was not enough time to say a proper goodbye to Bran and Rickon but the one person she should have made time for was already waiting for her by Fiachra's stall.

Her breathing paused as she looked into the eyes of her friend. Her long hair burned bright under the torch light and her expression was one that told Fallon she'd been waiting for her arrival.

"You weren't going to say goodbye?" Enat asked and Fallon sighed, noticing Fiachra was saddled and packed. Enat had done it for her. Like always.

"He left without saying goodbye too," Fallon replied and Enat chuckled lightly.

"Fallon you are my family, if you leave I might never see you again," she said and Fallon nodded towards the horse.

"And yet you prepared Fiachra?"

"I didn't say I was planning to stop you," she replied with a smirk on her lips.

Fallon reached for her, embracing her tightly, knowing very well this could be the last time they would see one another. She wished the light was brighter, that the dawn would peek over the hills long enough that she could see her friend's beautiful features as they were intended. Enat was a woman of beauty, someone Fallon had always envied. She was her sister, perhaps not in name, but bound by fate.

"You are in my heart, my sister," she whispered in the Old Tongue. Enat smiled and kissed her cheek. "Keep the boys safe."

"Stay along the path, they will not have strayed from it, do you hear me?" she said and Fallon laughed as she mounted her horse. Enat's motherly tone was more of an 'i love you' than a warning. "I heard Rowan say they would be meeting at Moat Cailin, Broden will be bringing our me as well."

No other words were needed. Fallon glanced over her shoulder only once, looking at her friend, her sister.

And then she was gone.

The ride was hard, but short. Fiachra raced through the thin layer of snow, drudging up the mud that lie damp underneath it. Fallon could see her breath in the icy air, Fiachra's as well as they both pushed forward. She stroked the black mane as they rode, whispering words of comfort in their home language. Fiachra pushed and pushed until the distance was closed and she saw the torch light of the village up ahead. She would make it, she thought. Surely they'd still be gathering the horses, the wagons and the rest of the supplies. The army wouldn't march out before dawn.

But as she entered the town, there were only a few tradesman walking about, preparing for their day. She dismounted her horse, running towards the blacksmith, Dag. They'd had many words before, spoken with laughter and long stories of the North that even she hadn't heard. He looked up at her curiously.

"Milady?," he asked her. "Ya shouldn't be out in this weather so early. It's too cold."

"Dag, where are the men? Where are the lords?" she asked, her breath ragged and his face fell then and it was confirmation she was too late.

"They been gone, Milady, for some time now. Lord Stark wanted to push his men South 'fore dawn rose."

She looked towards the road that led out of town. It was a fair distance to where Robb was headed, but even if they had half a days ride on her, she could catch them before they settled into camp for the night. They would be traveling at an army's pace. But she ride the Skagosi, with haste. As she turned towards her horse he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Milord did tell me that if you was to stop by, lookin' as if you was about to follow the army South, that I ought to tells ya-" he started and then looked into her eyes and smiled. "Ya know, I can't for the life'a me remember."

She smiled in return, kissing his cheek lightly in thanks before running off towards Fiachra. He waved as they galloped off, which Fallon returned before pulling her hood back up over her hair and she set off on her journey.

Robb would be furious when he saw her, that she knew for sure. She didn't want to undermine his requests, but this was different.

Fallon wasn't ready to let him go.

* * *

**[Robb]**

The sun was lowering itself in the sky. Clouds were cleared slightly as the sun began to fall over the horizon, glowing off the the Fever River that rested just outside of Moat Cailin. It had been a full days ride before Robb thought it better to make camp. More of his bannermen were joining him here, the meeting point where the lords had agreed to make camp before setting off all as one.

Nearly all the banners had joined by now, only House Magnar had yet to arrive but Rowan had assure Robb that Broden was pulling his army together and sailing across the Bay of Seals to meet Robb's army in only a few days time. Rowan had been a good companion, one that was honest and blunt when needed, and then keeping the mood light enough that Robb wasn't constantly feeling dread inside of him.

Currently the he was acting in Broden's place on his small council as they talked tactics. The map was spread out, the large table in the recently erected tent making it easy to see the challenges they would face. Ravens had arrived with news from Southern supporters and their Northern scouts who had gathered information on the movements of the King's forces.

The Lannisters had the most men. They were stationed in the Riverlands, ravaging the lords of each of the castles as they saw fit. Riverrun had to be protected and Robb new once the Skagosi army arrived, he'd have a well matched army for battle. Many of the Northern lords were skeptical about Broden's army. Many had never met any of the Skagosi until Rowan. But Robb wouldn't stand for prejudice, he'd made that clear.

The Skagosi were to be trusted, if anything he knew that much.

Soldiers arriving from White Harbor were pouring in by the hundreds as tents went up and fires were started in the snow to keep many of the men warm. It had been years since the last real snow and already he was realizing most of them weren't quite used to it yet.

Before he'd entered the hall, he'd seen Lord Cerwyn was standing with his daughter, glancing at Robb with a keen eye as he had when he'd suggested he bring her to help cook for the men. She had been eyeing him, as he thought she might. Lord Cerwyn had claimed she'd just come along as company and to cook, but even Theon knew the man wanted to put the girl in his bed.

She wasn't particularly pretty, but she wasn't completely unfortunate either. But regardless Robb's eyes were not looking for a pretty face. The only face on his mind was back at Winterfell, her peaceful figure fresh in her memory from early this morning when he'd left her in his bed.

He could almost see the fury that would ensue once she realized he had left without a proper goodbye. But Robb couldn't bear it. He had tried several times in the early hours to find the words to wake her from her slumber. But nothing seemed good enough. He didn't want to say goodbye. It would have been unbearable for the both of them.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he realized the hall had gone silent. He looked up to see all the men looking towards the door, Grey Wind standing excitedly. He turned quickly to see exactly who they were looking at and Robb grinned widely at the sight of her.

"Mother?" he whispered, almost in relief as he spotted her, walking towards her quickly and engulfing her in a hug. It had been over a month since he'd seen her and while the reunion was unexpected, he found it to be a much needed surprise.

"Let me look at you," she said with a grin on her face and he pulled back so he could see him and she placed his hand to her face. "You've grown a beard," she said in surprise and he nodded. "You look like my brother," she told him with a fond smile. "I like it."

He knew his mother had last seen him clean shaven from Fallon's blade. But after she'd left, he felt no need to keep up the appearance. Fallon liked the stubble on his chin, the light auburn hairs that grew out and made her smile and laugh when he'd rub it against her face.

"I had not expected to see you," he said, not letting go of her hand as she held onto him, as she once had when he was a boy. Though he was no longer a boy, he still sometimes longed for those days. Now they had long passed and he was a man leading an army to war.

"I had not expected to be here," she told him and he thought of Bran and Rickon back at Winterfell. They missed their mother. But Fallon was there to keep them company, to distract them with her stories. Soon his mother would be there too and he wouldn't have to worry over either of them. "My uncle has decided to join us as well," she said, introducing the tall man standing behind her. "Ser Brynden Tully."

"The Blackfish," Robb said with a grin, reaching out his hand to the man and shaking it. "I've heard much about you, not just from my mother," he said and the Blackfish laughed. "And where is Ser Rodrik?"

"He is headed back to Winterfell as we speak," she explained.

"Good," Theon said then. "Maester Luwin may be a smart man, but he certainly doesn't know much about war."

"The boys will like that as well," Robb added. "Though I'm sure they like it much more when you return."

"I'll be home before long," she replied.

"My lady, a question." Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, asked. Robb saw her expression change as he spoke, the joy leaving her eyes. He could tell she felt the same way about this man that he did. But Lord Bolton was an excellent ally to have right now. "There have been rumors that you hold Lord Tywin's dwarf son as captive. Do you have him still?"

"I did hold Tyrion Lannister but unfortunately I am forced to admit that I was forced to relieve him from my charge," Catelyn explained and the hope left the men through a chorus of disappointed groans.

Robb had heard many stories about his Aunt Lysa. He knew his mother well enough that there was more to the story than she was letting on, but her tone expressed that she was through talking about the matter. He was about to suggest that they take a walk when Grey Wind started whining anxiously. He looked down at him, the pup having grown so large already as he rounded Robb with a nervous pace, staring at the door and nipping at Robb's fingers.

"What's gotten into your beast, boy?" the Greatjon asked and all the lords looked at him curiously. But Robb didn't have a chance to answer before one of the guards bursted through the doors, running towards him quickly.

"Milord Stark!" he shouted and Grey Wind stepped in front of him, pausing the man's running as his eyes fell upon the Direwolf.

"Well, what is it boy?" the Greatjon asked the guard. "Spit it out."

"A spy, hidden 'n the woods. They found one outside the camp," the man replied nervously, his eyes not having moved as Grey Wind paced. Grey yipped slightly up at Robb who furrowed his brow.

"A spy from where?" Theon asked. "What sigil?"

"They refused to say their name, Milord, but I daresay, they was wearin' a sigil of House Magnar on their cloak," he told them, looking direction at Rowan who stood behind Robb and his mother. All eyes turned towards him.

"What did I say about that little bastard?" the Greatjon boomed. "I said he wasn't to be trusted."

"Broden wouldn't send a spy, Robb," Rowan said calmly. "It must be a misunderstanding."

"Bring him in," Robb said slowly and the man looked at the lords nervously.

"It is...a woman Milord," he whispered and Robb looked back at his mother and then back to Rowan.

"Bring, _her_, in then," he replied and waited as the man ran back out.

It was only moments later that they came back in, the two guards covered in snow, holding the woman roughly by her arms. Her hood covered her features, snow was sprinkled over the fabric and her bulky cloak hid the rest of her, only the slightest bit of Magnar green poking out from underneath the thick fur. Grey Wind growled loudly, barking as he attempted to go forward but Robb urged him back with his hand on his fur.

The guards threw the woman to the ground so roughly that she cried out at the contact with the rough stone floor. Robb cringed at the treatment. Spy or not, she was a woman. Again Grey tried to lunge forward, this time without growling and Robb couldn't stop him as he ran to the woman's side. It was that action that made him certain of the initial feeling that had been clinging to his gut.

"Pick her back up!" he shouted, angrily and the woman looked up at the group of lords, her hood falling back.

"This is your spy, Magnar?" Roose asked looking unimpressed, his hands crossed over his chest as he glanced over to Rowan. He didn't have a chance to reply before Robb interrupted him.

"She is no spy," Robb said lowly, shaking his head as the men picked her back so she was standing up straight, holding her elbow where she'd hit it on the ground. Grey was yipping excitedly by her side. She brushed her hair from her face and Rowan walked towards her quickly.

"Let her go," Rowan whispered harshly to the guards who then glanced at Robb nervously for his orders.

"Do as he says," Robb insisted and immediately they let her go and Rowan grabbed hold of her in their stead.

She didn't look around the room as she caught her balance, only straight at him, her eyes piercing. They were full of something fierce and Robb knew that look well. There was no shame, no apology, just her standing there, steadfast and expectant.

"What are you doing here Fallon?" he asked her but he didn't give her a chance to explain as he shook his head angrily. "I told you to stay at Winterfell."

"Has something happened?" Catelyn asked, stepping forward with worry in her voice. Robb's first thought was to ask the same thing, until her expression made it clear that the only thing wrong was between the two of them. Fallon's features softened as she glanced at his mother.

"No My Lady," she said quickly. "Everything was well on my departure."

"Then why have you come?" she asked sternly.

"A war is no place for a woman," the Greatjon said, his eyes steady on Fallon, a curious rise in his brow. "Especially one as young as you. You ain't some beauty to lose a war over, but enemy men won't care what you look like so long as they can get their hands on you."

"With all due respect, My Lord Umber," she said, before Robb made a fool of himself defending Fallon's beauty and her honor. "I have seen more war than many men of my own age here now in Lord Stark's army."

The two had not gotten off to a good start back at Winterfell when Robb had brought the lords to court them towards his cause. The Greatjon had more than a few words for what he thought of Skagos and after hours of drunken banter, Fallon had lost what was left of her self-control as she lashed out on the great brute. Of course the Greatjon found it amusing, just as he did any sort of challenge directed at him. But Fallon still took the insults to heart and since that moment they had been at ends.

"Still no place for a woman," he said again with a chuckle which faded as Catelyn turned her head and set her eyes upon him with a heavy glare. The chuckled, which boomed loudly throughout the hall at first soon died into low laughs until he glanced at the floor, as if shamed by his own mother, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"Fallon," she then whispered, grabbing the younger girl's hands in her own. "You are a brave young woman, but I think you are needed more at Winterfell. It is your home now. Think of the boys."

"Mother," Robb interrupted. "Father's letter...Fallon is no longer a ward of Winterfell." Catelyn looked surprised by the news but she nodded.

"I do consider Winterfell a home," Fallon said softly. "Your family has become a part of me and I will forever be in your debt. But my family is also here. Rowan and Broden-"

"Fallon," Rowan warned her.

"Ro," she pleaded and he stopped his protest. "Lord Stark," she said, looking up at Robb, her expression carrying less furry as it fell to something softer. "If you wish me to return to Winterfell, I will ride back at first light. But if I would beg a moment of your time, before you decide."

There was a long moment of silence then. No one moved, just waited and watched what Robb would say or how he would react. This was all an act, he reminded himself. To the lords he had to be a leader, and to his mother, he needed to prove he was ready. Fallon's facade was much better than his. His Fallon would have unleashed her fury upon him the moment she stepped in the hall. This Fallon was composed and voicing her plea as if she spoke to a king, not a lover.

He looked to his mother first and she was glancing between Fallon and Robb curiously before she sighed and grabbed her dress from the floor.

"Come My Lords, let Lady Fallon have her audience," Catelyn said and Lord Umber was the first to follow, having already been shamed once by Lady Stark and not wishing to do so again. Theon followed and then Roose Bolton whose eyes lingered on Fallon for some time before he finally looked away with a contemplative frown on his pasty features. Rowan was last, looking at his sister with a stern frown that said there were words still to be said between them.

But as the door shut behind them, the room was left to she and Robb. Right now the only words to be had were between the two of them. Only Grey Wind stayed, reprising his place on the hearth, close the fire where he closed his eyes.

Part of him wanted to take her in his arms the other part wanted to scold her for coming here. But neither part as prepared for the sting of her palm against his cheek. The slap rang through the hall. Grey Wind looked up momentarily but placed his head back on the rug in disinterest. He looked back and her eyes were on fire as her chest heaved. This was no longer the subdued and obedient girl from moments previous.

This was _his_ Fallon.

"You left me," she whispered.

"You knew I would."

"And yet you left without saying goodbye," she said then, her voice low but still harsh. "In fact, you said goodbye to everyone _but_ me."

"Fallon I-" he started to say but her hand flew up again.

This time he was ready for it and he grabbed her hand in his and pulled her struggling body close enough that he was looking down at her. Her neck was craned up towards him, the way she hated because it made her feel so small. But she was small. So small and fragile, and it scared him. Which was why he didn't want her here.

"Why didn't you say goodbye?" she asked once her struggling ceased and he sighed.

"I've never been one that was good with-," he started, his answer causing her to huff impatiently. He nearly smiled at her childish reaction. "Listen, when I saw you there, lying in my bed so peacefully, without that worried frown on that pretty mouth of yours, I couldn't bear to ruin that." Her expression began to soften. "I wanted to remember you with a smile on your face, not tears in your eyes."

"And me?" she asked, her voice cracking. "What if I'd never seen you again. What would I have to remember you if not your goodbye."

This time he did smile, remembering their last night together. Their bodies warm by the fire on the fur rug at it's hearth, as they made love to the sounds of the winter wind howling along the moors. It was a good memory, he thought. A better goodbye than any insufficient words he could have scrounged up this morning.

"Why are you really here?" he asked, pushing her hair away from her face. "I know you better than to believe you'd ride that mare of yours all day to find me, just because a few words were not said."

"I...I was angry," she stuttered, unprepared for his question. "You left."

"I had to leave, you know that," he said and she shook her head.

"But you left, me. You left me behind and-"

"And...and what?" he persisted when she paused and she closed her eyes.

"-and I wasn't ready. To let you go."

It was an honest answer, the most selfish thing he'd ever heard her say since they'd met. And it had taken a lot for her to muster up the strength to admit. It made him soften his anger in her. Her hard exterior had faltered, and it was because of him. He knew she was speaking the truth.

"My love," he whispered, kissing her lips. She melted into him then. Her rigid arms falling against his shoulders until they snaked over his chest. He felt a pang in his heart, ripping slowly through his flesh as he held her close. "You know I cannot let you stay," he told her.

"If you send me back I'll just find another way to leave," she whispered into his shoulder. "I'm not your prisoner anymore," she said quickly and he frowned.

"Fallon don't say such things," he told her. "You make me sound like such a very bad man. You know very well were never our prisoner."

"In a sense, I was. But now I have my fate in my own hands. And I know I can do some good here. I'm of more use here than I'd be back in the solar embroidering cushions" she explained calmly. "I cannot sit around idly, waiting for a raven to send me news of your victory or your death."

"If I let you stay, what will the men say? What will my mother think? They'll think I favor you for letting a _woman_ stay in the midst of war."

"Since when do you care about that? You were the one trying to convince me to marry you while you were still betrothed to another," she reminded him and he gave her a flirtatious smile as she said so.

"Yes, and you have told me what a dishonorable cad I was for doing so. But I am betrothed no longer and yet you still will not have me," he said with a smile and her eyes rolled in annoyance. "What am I to make of that?"

"Robb this is no time for your jokes."

"Is it such a repulsive idea to you?," he asked through his chuckles and then kissed her hand. "Do you find the idea of marriage to me so unbearable?"

"That is an unfair question My Lord," she said, pulling her hand from his lips, much to Robb's disappointment. "I have made my feelings for you very plain."

"And it is unfair of you to beg me to stay," he said, his seriousness returning. "You ask me to betray more than my honor here."

"I only ask that you do not send me away. I will earn my keep, just like the others. I'll stay far from the fighting, far out of your way," she begged.

Robb had hardly ever heard her beg and never like this. She was one step away from falling to her knees to plead her case. But none of it sat well with him. The thought of her so far from safety. He felt the sudden urge to hold her tight, the bulky cloak of hers hindering him from feeling her fully engulfed in his arms.

"How am I to protect my men, and myself if I am constantly worrying about your protection?" he asked her, his whisper muffled by her hair but he knew she heard him. "I can barely think of how to lead this army on my own. I am not fit for this but I must do my best to be their leader. And the leader in me says I must send you home, to Winterfell," he clarified and she pulled her head from the nook of his shoulder to look up into his eyes.

"And what does _Mo Faol_ say?" she asked, her soft voice matching the softness in her eyes. "Commander Stark wants me gone, but _my_ Robb, my lover...does he want me gone so hastily as well?"

"How can I answer that? It is as unfair a question as the first," he said, shaking his head.

"Are you saying you don't like the thought of me warming your bed after each battle, kissing your battle scars, nursing you back to health after a long fight in the snow?" she said, her voice sultry and he could feel the longing within him return as it had the previous night by the fire, her naked body draped over his. "After months of seeing the ugly faces of your men, the scarcity of a beautiful woman in your camp, you will long for the feeling of a woman in your tent."

"I only want one woman," he said, his voice catching from the huskiness of his whisper. Her hips pressed against his.

"All the more reason you could find some use for me, My Lord."

She placed her lips over his, her fingers tangled in his hair and Robb felt all of the reservations he held fading slowly every time she rolled her hips over his. Reason was replaced by his lust for her, by the love he held for the woman who was trying so hard to manipulate him with her body. Part of him knew it was working, but the other part was completely aware that he was being played like a musician and his lute.

Giving this stubborn woman her way would mean betraying his duty. He had a duty to this army and his mission was to save his father. But to say no would mean betraying his heart. If Fallon was in camp, he'd know where she was and he'd know if she was safe. He knew that more than anything right now, he needed the confidence to command this army. If anything, Robb knew Fallon inspired in him the confidence of 10,000 warriors so it seemed.

His indecision was his enemy now, as well as his heart that swelled from the words she was currently whispering into his ear, her lips pressed gently against the skin of his neck. He loved her, beyond a doubt he did. And it was that love that clouded his judgement in a moment when he needed a clear head.

Finally he pulled her away slowly.

"I will have words with your brother. Before I can make a final decision," he told her slowly and she seemed, at first, to accept this.

"Rowan knows my value," she explained but he shook his head.

"Not Rowan. I will have words, with _Broden_, upon his arrival," he clarified and the certainty in her eyes seemed to fade.

"But-" she started but the look on his face stopped her.

"You may no longer be ward of Winterfell, love, but Broden is Lord of Kingshouse and Magnar of the Nighean of Skagos. He will decide whether your place is here."

His tone was final and she seemed to understand that though her expression showed she was battling her desire to contradict him. But he was right, and he knew she realized this.

"And what shall I do until Broden arrives?" she asked him and Robb thought of a way to keep her occupied.

"I need to cross the Twins," he explained, pulling her over towards the oversized map on the hall table and pointing where Lord Walder Frey's fortress was located by two identical towers with a large bridge. "You told me a story once, of the Magnar called Cadeyrn who wanted to cross the large bridge in the mountains, guarded heavily by the ancient tribe of the Black Mountains."

"Cadeyrn was needed to bridge to reach the mountain pass, or else he would not be able to defeat the warlord Morcant of the North. Yes, I recall the story," she replied, her eyes traveling over the riverlands. "Tywin and Jaime Lannister are like Morcant, sealing off your path to King's Landing, while also ravaging every castle in the Riverlands."

"Yes," he agreed, glad he understood his reference. "You said the bridge tribe let Cadeyrn pass and Morcant's forces were defeated with the help of the mountain tribe as well. But how did Caderyn convince them to aid him and his army? They could have helped Morcant just as easily."

She seemed to consider this as she toyed with the large figures on the table. The black lion head was near to Riverrun while another was resting closely towards the Trident. She traced the outline of the direwolf next, glancing momentarily towards Grey Wind who as sound asleep and warmer than either of them as they stood in their winter coats. And then she looked up to Robb.

"Send your mother to bargain with Walder Frey," she said and Robb's eyes widened.

"My mother?" he started to protest but she held her hand up to signal she hadn't finished.

"You asked how Caderyn was able to convince the bridge tyrants to let him cross? It wasn't Caderyn the Magnar, but his wife that attended the parle," she said as if it were obvious and Robb's brow furrowed in confusion.

"His wife?" he asked and she nodded.

"Caderyn's wife was of Skane, the small island right off the main coast of Skagos. During the great migration, many of the Skane islanders moved inland and formed subtribes in the Black Mountains. Caderyn's wife, Brangaine, was the daughter of the previous mountain clan tyrant, the cannibal savage leader who guarded the bridge in the Black Mountain Pass. She'd won the Magnar's heart and they fought side by side in battle because of her agility and strength. Because of her relation to the Black Mountain savages, Caderyn trusted her to parle with the bridge guard to secure safe passage. For eight days they set terms and argued particulars until the ninth sunrise when Brangaine returned to Caderyn, she told him that they were granted passage."

"What were the terms of the agreement?" Robb asked, though he had an idea.

"Caderyn had to sacrifice a hundred of his men to guard the bridge from Morcant, and two of his daughters were promised to marry the clan's best warriors."

"He sacrificed his own daughters?" Robb asked in disgust and she shook her head.

"It was Brangaine's proposal, she knew it was either marriage or death. The Black Mountain clan is known for its brutality, but their women are protected, worshiped even. Brangaine knew Cderyn wouldn't like it, but he also knew they'd be safe. She had grown up among the savages after all."

"So you think because my mother is a Tully that Lord Frey will listen to her?" Robb asked, staring at the stone figure of the Twins. She shrugged.

"I have heard your mother speak of that man. And I do believe he will at the very least, listen to her as he is her father's bannerman."

"And do you think he will allow our passage?" he asked her then.

"I don't believe he is to be trusted, Robb. Your mother will tell you the same. She knows Lord Frey is a greedy man. We'd be lucky if he wasn't already in Lord Tywin's pocket," she said and he sighed.

"Perhaps, but if he is not-will he let us pass? Do you think?"

"Not without a price," she whispered and he nodded. He had expected as much. "Let me go with her," she asked then, her voice eager. "I can prove my worth here at camp by helping your mother secure our passage."

"No," he said immediately and she frowned.

"Would you just consider it, for a moment?" she asked sourly.

"I will not risk you or my mother, I will go myself," he said and she laughed.

"You? Lord Walder will ransom you to Lord Tywin piece by piece. You forget the King want's your head. You are coming for his after all."

"I go for my father. War can still be prevented," he said seriously and she grabbed his hands.

"Not if you are a prisoner," she replied. "Which is why you should let me go with her. Send us to the Twins and I will ensure Ol' Walder gives you safe passage."

"How?" he asked her and she smiled, the pretty smile that Robb knew well. The smile that said she had a plan.

"I will present him with an offer he cannot refuse."

Robb did not like the sound of her tone, the sound of an idea popping into that mind of hers. But at this point, he wasn't sure he had much of a choice.

* * *

A/N: I cannot say it enough..THANK YOU! I have read so many encouraging and excited reviews lately that I've been dancing with my own excitement as I have outlined the next 3 chapters. A lot is about to happen and I can't wait to see how you all feel about it as I write it.

I want to note that I will probably be going back to edit a few sections of my previous chapters to rewrite some of the GRRM book quotes. I was unaware that GRRM hates fanfiction and I have no issue editing it so it's more show based rather than book. This is not for profit so I do this purely out of my own enjoyment.

So that basically also means that a few things will be different, as they were in this chapter with Fallon and Robb discussing talking to Walder Frey. I am aware that it was Catelyn and Robb who decided this, but I wanted Fallon to be part of that as well. I am not trying to diminish Cat's character at all.

Also, quite a few of the reviews have been curious about Kathryn either stealing Fallon's ribbon and/or her stealing Fallon's letters. 1. Let me clarify that the green ribbon (if you go back to the chapter where Robb and Fallon were in his room) Fallon hid under the bed and lost the ribbon before Kathryn came in. When Robb said nothing was going on between him and Fallon, Kathryn knew he was lying when she found Fallon's ribbon on Robb's bedroom floor. She wore it to basically tell Fallon that she wasn't stupid and that she knew Fallon and Robb were sneaking around. 2. The letters will come into play, please be patient. I have not forgotten about them, but as for now, they've not been important to Kathryn's story or Fallon's but I assure you they will be a big issue later.

If you have any more questions, don't be shy, please let me know. Thanks! xoLola


	14. Chapter 14

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

**[Catelyn]**

There were very few memories Catelyn had of standing in the damp halls of the Twins. Her father's relationship with Lord Frey had always been one of obligation. The man was not to be trusted and all the high lords of Westeros knew as much. The problem was, Walder Frey was now in an immense seat of power with the position his fortress had on the Trident.

She knew as soon as Robb came to her with the plan that she would have to do whatever was in her power to make Walder agree. No one liked the idea of two women going with such a small guard into the clutches of a man they could not trust. Robb, being the brave man he was, had insisted he go himself but Fallon had been adamant that he stay behind. Catelyn had agreed. She wouldn't have allowed it either, Commander or not. The Freys would not harm her or Fallon without bringing down the wrath of the Northerners upon them. They would be safe for at least the duration of the parle.

So there they stood, Fallon to her right as they looked up at the man her father called the _Late_ Walder Frey, surrounded by his large family in his dining hall. It was only the two women standing before him, no guard except those standing just outside the castle gate. Neither looked upon the decrepit man with any fondness, but instead with stern expressions and tight mouths.

"Your Lord sends two women in his stead?" Walder asked, holding his head up lazily with his hand as he leaned against the large seat of House Frey. "I expected more from the man who wants my bridge to cross. Or the _boy_ I should say."

"My son waits with his men. An army of twenty thousands stands outside your gates, My Lord," Catelyn replied, her tone full of acid.

"And twenty thousand corpses will be in their stead when the Lannisters arrive. Lord Tywin would be very happy to cross my bridge into the North, I'm sure," he said with a sour expression.

"You are my lord father's bannermen, your sword sworn to his bidding," she reminded him harshly and he laughed.

"My lady, you know as well as I that your lord father is no friend of mine. I may have said some words just as the ones I said to the Iron Throne. King Joffrey wants your traiter of a husband's head on a stake. Your son and his men, they're no better than rebels in the eyes of the crown. Which oath should I keep if I want to keep my _own_ head?" he asked with a bitter laugh. "Then of course, there is _all_ that Lannister gold. Would do me well in my old age, wouldn't you say?"

"Then why not take his gold?" Catelyn replied bitterly and he frowned. "What has stopped you?"

"The fool has but to ask," he replied and Catelyn looked to Fallon whose expression had yet to falter. She looked to be studying the man before them and his words.

"And what will you ask of us, to keep you from taking that gold?" Catelyn asked and Walder looked down at the two of them curiously. "I am asking for your help, My Lord. My voice speaks for thousands. My husband, my sons, my brothers...my father."

"What are those thousands prepared to sacrifice? You don't have the gold to match Tywin Lannister."

Hours of haggling began then. Catelyn would offer and Lord Frey would counter it with one of his own. All the while Fallon never said a word as she stood obediently at Catelyn side. Supper was offered as darkness fell and they joined the Freys in a small feast where Walder ignored them both in favor of the entertainment of fools.

Fallon had sent a hastily written letter with one of the Frey's sons back to Robb's camp with news that the negotiations would last another day. Catelyn had instructed Fallon to write that he was to stay at camp and wait for news and that under no circumstances was he to ride to the Twins to meet them until the dealings were through.

Meanwhile, she and Fallon ate quietly, discussing how the lords would react to the terms. There had been few sacrifices on their part, but Fallon's warning glances told her they were in no place to discuss the matter further until they were alone. When the hour got late it was clear no more deals would be made until the morning and they were invited a room in the tall tower that looked down on Robb's army. Lights from the fires below kept Fallon at the window seat, looking down distractedly.

"We give him what he wants and yet I still feel as though he wants more," Catelyn whispered but Fallon did not turn her head from the window. Catelyn was perched near the fire, warming her hands.

"He _will_ indeed ask for more," Fallon said, without moving. "But he will wait until you have given him what he wants before giving his consent. I thought he would be easier to appease. I was not expecting him to want something so valuable."

"What do you mean?" Catelyn asked then. Fallon had told Catelyn before they arrived that she would haggle until the man could not refuse. But it seemed as though Fallon realized something Catelyn didn't.

"Do you think that he cares if his sons are fostered at Winterfell? Or that we have bargained Arya's hand to one of his anonymous sons?" Fallon asked and Catelyn found her tone harsh. They both knew Arya would be furious to hear that she was to be married off to without her consent, or rather married off at all.

"It was a lot to ask," Catelyn replied. "It was not easy for me to give Arya's hand away. She will no doubt hate me for it."

"But Lady Stark, he has not asked at _all_," Fallon said, her green eyes dancing in the firelight from the torches below. "Don't you understand? Lord Frey has let you do make the suggestions and he has only haggled in return. He had a price in mind long before we walked through those doors and you only you have yet to name it. Of course just because someone hands you silver when you are waiting for gold, does not mean you will be eager to return that silver. I should have known better."

Catelyn considered this. It was true. When she thought back to the afternoon it had been she who had brought up the subject of marriage. At first it was Rickon she'd offered, but Lord Frey had no desire to wait for the boy to age. Arya was closer in age as Sansa was already betrothed. It was her only other choice, or at least he only choice she was willing to consider.

"You don't think-" she started, the realization pouring over her and Fallon's eyes fell slightly though her head never turned.

"He wants Robb," she whispered and Catelyn shook her head.

"I cannot bargain my son."

"He want's a Lord for a son-in-law, My Lady," Fallon replied. "He will not agree to anything less than a prestigious marriage between your houses."

Robb had been upset when they'd betrothed him to Kathryn Ashford. But he'd took it as a man and did not argue with Ned's choice. But now that Kathryn was a hostage and no longer his intended, she'd seen a change in him. She wasn't ready to throw him back into this looming fate.

But more than that, it was something in the way Fallon's eyes fell that said more than her words were. She'd seen her son and Fallon exchange longing glances at Winterfell. But nothing compared to the looks she'd seen in their eyes back at Moat Cailin. When Fallon had been thrown to the ground, Robb looked ready to draw his sword on the guards.

She'd followed him here, against his orders, for love. That much had been clear.

But what _wasn't_ clear was why Fallon was now suggesting Catelyn agree to a marriage pact between Walder's daughter and Robb who was so recently unhindered. If Robb was no longer forced to marry the Ashford girl, then that would leave them to do as they pleased. Robb would ask for Fallon's hand, Catelyn knew that. But not if he was betrothed to the Frey girl.

"He would never forgive me," she replied and Fallon finally looked at her. There was nothing there, behind the green orbs. Whatever Fallon felt, her face did not betray her. Catelyn only saw the woman from the hall, expressionless.

"He will forgive you when his father is freed, when his sisters are safe. He will marry one of Lord Frey's daughters if it means his family stays as one," Fallon said quickly.

"Fallon," Catelyn said. "What happened, between the two of you at Wintefell?"

Fallon's facade fell for only a split second but Catelyn saw the way she faltered as the question was asked. But just as soon as the defenses fell the were again risen. Catelyn suddenly wished she could talk to Robb. But even if he confirmed her suspicions about the two of them, it would only make the decision that much harder to make.

The next morning Catelyn woke to find Fallon asleep against the windowsill, not having moved from her spot and she wondered how much sleep the girl had actually gotten.

Their walk down to the hall was met by an even larger crowd of Freys surrounding the Late Walder who was looking even more eager to continue their deal making. Now having heard Fallon's opinion, it was obvious that the greedy man had been milking her for everything during the recent proceedings. But there was only one more thing to be had.

"What have you to bargain with today, Lady Stark?" he asked and Catelyn looked down at her hands and then to Fallon who nodded reassuringly. But no words seem to come as she thought of her son, her sweet Robb. How could she bargain his fate?

"What is it you want?" Fallon's voice was calm and steady, but it rang loudly through the hall and Walder glanced at her in surprise as if just noticing her for the first time since they'd entered the hall.

"And who do we have here?" he asked, stroking his chin in a way that made Catelyn cringe. "Certainly not a Tully by the looks of you. And no great beauty like those Stark women breed."

"I am Lady Fallon Magnar, sister to the current Lord of Kingshouse," Fallon replied dryly. Lord Frey's eyes sparked and he sat up slowly. He eyed her carefully now. "Be plain, My Lord Frey. We have bargained much-"

"But not enough, as I'm sure you've noticed," he said with a grin. He then looked to Catelyn. "Lady Stark, you have a son."

"I have three sons," Catelyn corrected, her voice steady though the rest of her was not.

"And I have many daughters," he said with a large smirk. "Let us end this. How about, your eldest for mine?"

"No," Fallon said quickly and for a moment Catelyn thought she had changed her mind.

"No?" Lord Frey asked with a smirk.

"Robb will be Lord of Winterfell. At the very least he should be able to choose," Fallon said, glancing over at Frey's daughters. "Your eldest daughter is older than Lady Stark. She will not produce him with heirs in that dried belly of hers. He will choose whichever suits him. I am sure you can allow _that_ much."

He was right, he had a great deal of children, his daughters ranging in age. Fallon looked them over momentarily, boredom in her eyes before looking back at their father. But what interested Catelyn the most was the way Frey watched the girl with increasing interest. To Catelyn it was unnerving.

"Very well," Frey finally agreed. "The boy will have his pick of any of my girls. And when this mess is over, we will have a wedding."

"Is this your deal?" Catelyn said, finally finding her voice. "If we accept we may cross?"

There was a long moment of silence. No one dared speak as Walder Frey pulled together his thoughts. Fallon didn't seem to breathe as she stood there, looking up into the stare of the man who eyed her curiously. Catelyn knew now that Fallon had been right. This was what he had wanted all along. And she had condemned two of her own children to an arranged marriage, all for a bridge.

"There is-" he started, stroking his chin. "-one more thing I would have. And _then_ you will have my bridge and the men your son needs."

Catelyn didn't know if it was the look in the old man's eyes or the smile in his voice that caused the chills to run up her spine in fear. And whatever came out of his mouth next, she knew he would be the only one satisfied.

* * *

**[Robb]**

The higher the sun rose in the sky, the more nervous Robb became as he waited in the tent with Grey Wind at his side. He did not like the situation they'd put his mother and Fallon in. The dealings were not supposed to last overnight and when he'd received word from Fallon that they would need more time he nearly rode through the fortress gates himself to bring them back.

But the lords insisted this was how these proceedings went. There would be much bargaining, they'd told him, and if his mother was as good a haggler as he'd claimed, then they would have very little to sacrifice when all was said and done.

Rowan was the most optimistic, telling Robb that Fallon would insure the best possible outcome for them all. Of course it was Robb who would make this payment. This was his battle and his cost. He wouldn't agree to terms that meant the suffering of more of his men.

"Milord!" someone shouted from outside the tent and Grey trotted after them and Robb not far behind. There weren't many tents still standing, almost everything had been packed up by dawn, ready to ride once the consent was made to cross the bridge.

Robb look towards the boy who was now pointing towards the hill in the distance. It wasn't far from their camp where the men on horses were waiting. The men were in large numbers, the horses all dark, riding down the hill so that Robb could now see that the numbers would be of great use. Towards the front one man rode faster than the others, a large green sigil in his hand.

The sigil of House Magnar.

"It is Broden," Rowan said from next to him and he nodded, following his wolf forward, ready to greet the Lord of Kingshouse when he arrived.

It wasn't long before Broden and his men reached the edge of the camp and he handed his banner to what looked to be a young man no older than Bran. Fallon's eldest brother looked older than he remembered. Of course he'd met Broden only once in the cover of night. The man had the same green eyes as his sister and the more he looked at his features, the more he saw their resemblance. Rowan's features were similar but not quite as distinct. He'd never met Drystan, but Fallon had once said Rowan was the spitting image of their father.

"Stark," Broden said, holding his arm out to Robb who grasped it tightly in his own.

"Magnar," Robb said then, the tone in his voice inflecting the respect in the ancient term. Broden's hard eyes looked at Robb's with the same respect, but something else as he then looked around the camp in interest.

"As promised, I have brought a thousand men to aid your cause," Broden told him and Robb nodded his thanks.

Broden then turned to embrace Rowan, it having been months since the two had last seen one another. Aedan too was nearby, a man at his side with a large red beard that Robb assumed was his father, the man Fallon called 'Beardy.' Grey Wind sniffed the large man's boots curiously, and neither seemed to mind the other's presence.

Broden placed a hand on Robb's shoulder and turned them both away from the crowds of soldiers and leaned in close to his ear.

"My sister was not at Winterfell," he whispered loud enough that Robb could hear him over the chatter, but not so loud that the others would overhear. "Enat told me I would find her here."

"Yes, she rode all the way to Moat Cailin after I forbid her to come. She arrived only an hour after we had arrived ourselves," he explained and something seemed to lighten in Broden's eyes as he spoke. "I wanted to speak to you before sending her back."

"She must not go back," he whispered quickly, looking over his shoulder momentarily glancing in Aedan's direction. "You did well to keep her here."

"This is no place for her," Robb said quietly. "How can I go to battle and leave her here, risk her life?"

"She is a strong woman, she's fought by my side many times in battle," Broden said with a frown. "And Enat says she is no longer a ward of Winterfell?"

"Enat is right," Robb said, his brow furrowing deeper each time Broden looked over his shoulder. "Which is why I allowed you the courtesy of waiting to speak with you first. She cannot stay. She is not safe."

"Stark," he said, this time his eyes cold as his hold tightened on his shoulder. "This is the _only_ place she is safe." The words were cryptic but his tone said that the conversation was not to be had here. There was more to be said, but he was not saying it. "Where is she?"

"She and my mother are at Lord Frey's castle. They are bargaining our terms for him to allow us to cross the river," he explained and Broden nodded.

"Yes, she will make you a good deal," he said, just as Rowan had. "Fallon has always been good with negotiations. She once dealed the laird of Southern Shore clan to release our captives for only three of our cattle."

"If only that was all Frey wanted," Robb muttered.

It was well into the afternoon before the saw the riders from the Twins returning to camp. Robb mounted his stallion quickly, riding to greet them with Grey Wind racing next to him. Many of the lords followed. All were eager to hear the terms which Lord Frey would have impressed upon him. What debt would Robb owe to the old man.

They met the small guard with his mother and Fallon riding near the front, several more men rode with them and Robb recognized the Frey sigil on their cloaks.

"It is done," his mother said, speaking first. "You are granted crossing." Neither of the women smiled when they saw him, but when Fallon's eyes caught sight of her brothers she dismounted quickly and ran to them. He watched as Broden jumped off the horse and grabbed his sister in his arms. There was something desperate about his hold on her as he stroked her face and smiled, a rarity for the rugged man.

He helped his mother off her horse easily and they she lead them away from the group. Behind them the lords were eyeing the Frey men suspiciously, waiting to hear if they should pull their swords or not. Among them several of Walder's sons, some older with ugly smiles. It made him anxious.

"What does he want from us?" he asked in a quiet whisper and his mother looked at him with a solemn stare.

"You will spare a few of your swords, enough for a guard to transport two of his grandsons to Winterfell. They will foster alongside your brothers."

"Very well," Robb said, surprised by the ease of the sacrifice. "This was the deal that took all evening to-"

"You will also take Lord Frey's son, Olyvar, as your squire," she told him and Robb could see there was more coming but he nodded.

"Fine, I had yet to take a squire. I am sure he will make a fine one," he told her.

Had it not been for his mother's downcast eyes he would have said Fallon had indeed helped make a very favorable bargain on his behalf. But there was more of the bargain to be heard, and from his mother's expression, what he'd yet to hear was going to be a much bigger sacrifice than taking on a squire.

"Also, when Arya is returned and when she comes of age, she will marry Lord Walder's youngest son, Elmar."

It had shocked him, to say the least. He could only assume Arya was the only logical choice Lord Walder would accept since Sansa was betrothed to Joffrey. But Arya would refuse. How was he supposed to force her to marry against her will, especially after she knew how miserable he had been betrothed to Kathryn.

"She will not like that," he whispered, his sympathy with her and his mother nodded.

"And-" she started and sighed and Robb's brow furrowed.

"There is more than that?"

"Once the fighting is done," she said, glancing over her shoulder once. Robb followed her glance, to where Fallon was crouched, stroking Grey Wind's fur with light touches, seemingly unaware that they were watching her. "Once the fighting is done, you will wed one of Lord Walder's daughters. He will allow you to choose whichever one you wish."

Robb wasn't sure how to react. He was unsure if he'd heard correctly but by the grasp of his mother's hand on his arm, he assumed her words had been clear. His eyes immediately sought out Fallon's and he saw her, Grey Wind nudging her cheek. He felt himself willing her to look his way, to assure him this was a mistake, to beg him not to do make this deal. But she did not look and Robb felt a sharp ache in his chest.

"Do I have a choice, mother?" he whispered, not pulling his eyes away from Fallon. "Can I refuse the man?"

"Not if you want to cross, Robb," she replied, squeezing his hand in hers. "Do you consent to these terms?"

Robb knew it didn't matter what he felt now. No matter the anger or the pang of sadness in his heart, he had no choice but to consent. He was no longer a boy, no longer training to one day become his father's heir. Without his consent, they could not cross. Without his consent his father could be killed, and for what? How could he explain to his men that he could not agree to a pact that involved his marriage to a woman who was not Fallon Magnar? They would laugh at him, return home to their warm hearths and beds. This was no place for love. Boys played at war, but men fought in them. And men made marriage pacts when they needed to cross a bridge.

"Then I consent," he whispered curtly, looking away from Fallon and back to his mother whose eyes showed how she felt. His mother was always showing what she felt and for that he was usually grateful. But for now he did not want to see the pity in her eyes. When he stepped back he saw the lords eyeing him curiously. "We will cross," he said steadily. "Gather the men."

He could see the men were curious to know what it would cost Robb to cross Walder Frey's bridge, but they saw Robb was not planning to say more as he walked towards Fallon.

He didn't care how it looked when he grabbed her arm and brought her towards the nearest tent. When he opened the flap and saw it was empty he dragged her in. She didn't look up at him as he stared down at her, holding her hand firmly in his as he awaited the words he dreaded to hear. He brought his left hand to her face, stroking her cheek as he felt his heart ache. He caressed her jawline until his fingers were under her chin and he urged her eyes up to his.

"Tell me this was not you," he whispered and he could see the red in her eyes. "Tell me you did not do this to us."

"Robb," she whispered and he shook his head. The catch in her voice said everything and he let her go, stepping backwards as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Do you understand what this means? Do you know what is to happen now?" he asked bitterly, feeling his emotions rising up through his throat. She couldn't seem to form words, her mouth opening and closing several times as tears formed in her eyes. "Once my father returns to the North, I am to marry one of Lord Walder's daughters. Not you Fallon. A Frey."

"It was our only option," she said, swallowing hard. "He wanted to marry you to his eldest and I refused. At the very least now you have a choice," she said, her voice rising.

"A choice!?" he scoffed, his voice, too, far from a whisper. "I may be unable to marry the woman I love but at least I have a choice in which arranged wife I will have." His tone was full of the sarcasm that he could see had stung her.

"Don't do this," she said, pulling at his cloak anxiously as she took a step towards him. "I understand that you are angry, as is your right. If there was any other option I would have made him agree to it. I did not think he would ask for so much. But there was nothing else to be done."

He knew he shouldn't be angry with her, but he couldn't help but feel it rising up within him as he thought of what she had done. She had made it so they were again in this limbo. She had made it so they were once again forever separated. The more he thought of it, the more bitterness that he felt.

"Perhaps it is better this way," he whispered coldly. "You were the one, after all, who said we could never be together. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you did this." The look on her face was one of hurt, her tears falling down her cheeks as she frowned.

"You think me so low?" she asked, wiping her face.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Fallon,' he whispered and he turned to leave but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"Your mother did not tell you all the last thing he wanted," she said, through her tears. Her words gave him pause and he turned to look at her curiously, the anger in her eyes directed at him.

"She told me of the boys we are to foster, of the Frey boy I am to squire for me. And she told me that Arya has the same fate as I am to have," he said, frowning but she shook her head.

"Lord Frey could care less about those boys, about his son becoming your squire. Oh Seven Hells Robb do you think he actually cares about your sister's hand? All he wanted was you!" she shouted. "You and one other thing to cross the bridge, everything else was just a bonus for him."

"What other thing? My mother did not-"

"Me!" she said angrily. "He wanted me as well."

"What?" he asked, not understanding what she meant but feeling a different kind of anger filling inside of him as he stepped towards her protectively. "He has a wife, Fallon, I will not let him have you as well."

"It is his son, Aenys," she said, her hold on his arm tight. "I am to marry him once the fighting has stopped."

"No, no I did not agree to that," he told her, shaking his head.

"And you will stop your men from crossing that bridge because of me?" she asked. "It will all have been for naught."

"You will not marry against your will," he said sternly. "I forbid it."

"It is not your decision to make," she told him, placing her hand on his cheek. "If you want to cross the river, which you must, then this is the fate we have been dealt."

"Then we will find another way," he said, his voice catching now just as hers had as he looked down at her with desperation in his eyes. She smiled up at him, the sad sort of smile he had hoped to never see.

"There is no other way, my love," she whispered and she rested her head against his chest.

Robb was filled with grief then. He was ashamed now that he had made accusations towards her, that he had belittled her. But this was not something he wanted for her, to marry a man more than three times her age, to have her free will stripped from her. At least when she refused Robb it was of her own choosing. But to marry Aenys Frey, so Robb could gain support of a spidery old lord, that was impossible for him to stomach.

"I will stop this, just tell me to and I will," he whispered to her, his eyes closed as he held her tightly. "I will ride to Lord Frey myself and tell him he cannot have you. That you do not want his son."

"I _do not_ want his son," she replied. "But if I cannot have you, then what does it matter who I marry?"

"It matters to me," he told her, kissing her hair.

"There are more important things," she said, pulling back and wiping her face. "Because of our sacrifice we can save your father and your sisters. What is a marriage pact compared to the lives of your family?"

She was right. Fallon had bargained her freedom for his family. Lord Frey could have asked for much more and yet a simple marriage between families was all he required. While it was not simple for the two of them, to his bannermen, this was a sacrifice that would do more good than harm.

"You said you were going to make him a deal he couldn't refuse," he said then, remembering the words she had used to convince him to let her go. "What deal were you going to make?"

"I was going to bargain part of the Magnar land in Skagos, with a castle or two if he chose. I have a cousin as well who would make a pretty wife," she said and Robb realized how much she was prepared to give up and how wrong he had been to misjudge her motives. "But the moment negotiations began, I could see nothing would sway him from you."

"Why did he want you as well?" he asked her but she shook her head in confusion.

"I do not know. One moment I appeared to be invisible to him, just an average girl accompanying Lady Stark. But then something changed. I told him who I was and he was suddenly very interested in making a marriage match. It was my name that sparked his interest. He had all but called me a plain maid not moments before."

"Plain?" Robb said, squeezing her hand. "The man must be blind as well as cruel."

She smiled then and he kissed her lips, tasting the salt on that her tears had left on them. He felt his heart ache as she clung to him, running her fingers through his hair as he held her. It was the most pain he had felt, holding this woman in his arms, not knowing what they were giving up. To Robb, it was the life he'd never known he wanted until now. As a young man he knew he'd one day get married. He'd do his duty, marry and create a family. But never had he longed for that life so desperately as he did when he thought of Fallon. He could picture her, her belly fat with his child, holding a son in her arms with her green eyes bright with joy.

But they would never have that life now.

"Let us go," she whispered to him, ending their kiss. "We must cross that bridge we have paid so dearly for"

He didn't speak, only took her hand in his and lead her out of the tent. She pulled her hand back to her side once the cold air hit their lungs, no longer in the privacy of the moment that had ended so soon.

Broden was waiting, not far from where they had emerged, holding Fiachra by her reins and looking at both of them with the same solemn expression Robb remembered from their first encounter many months ago. But there was something different about the way he looked at his sister now. Something sad behind his hard eyes that made Robb feel as though something had changed. When she reached her brother's side and he handed her the reins, his hand lingered over hers for a moment and Robb watched Fallon's expression turn to one of confusion as well.

"My Lord," he heard, turning towards a man who looked not much older than himself. "My name is Olyvar Frey, I am to be your squire." Robb nodded.

"Have your horse prepared, you'll ride near me," he told him and then stopped him before he ran off. "Wait," he said quickly. "The Frey men your father is sending, who are they?"

Olyvar glanced at the bridge where the Freys were gathering together. He pointed to the tallest, the man who was large, a chin that protruded out from his sharp jaw and whose arms were tight against his tunic.

"My brothers, My Lord," he said. "There is Hosteen. He is strong in battle, the strongest they say. The smaller man next to him that is Jared. Stevron is My Lord Father's eldest son by his first wife. The one with the darker hair is Perwyn, he is not much older than me. We share a mother."

"And the tallest one?" Robb eyes, his eyes narrowing as he gazed upon the man who looked older than his father. He had no hair on his head but plenty covering his chin as it fell into a thin, rat-like, beard.

"He is called Aenys, My Lord father's third son. He has seen much time in battle, Lord Stark."

Aenys Frey, the man Fallon was meant to marry, was a hard looking man. Nothing about his ridged glare looked pleasant. In fact his scowl seemed to show off the reputation Robb knew of that man his father had once spoke of. It was then that Robb vowed then that until she was ripped from his arms, that he would not let her anywhere near the man. Betrothed or not.

* * *

**[Fallon] **

The night grew late, the fires dim as the cold air descended upon the camp. Many of the soldiers were warm in their tents, enjoying the green ground that had yet to be covered in Winter's snow. Sounds of snores and fires crackling could be heard through her thin tent walls.

Her eyes were glued to the melting candle on the table next to her bed. The light had long dimmed from the time she lit it. Sleep had yet to claim her as she lie awake anxiously, her mind focused on the day that had yet to come. She did not want to miss the dawn, she thought, knowing that if she closed her eyes, surely she'd miss sending the men off to battle.

Robb had forbidden her from riding into combat, saying that it was too dangerous for her. He had allowed her to stay under the pretense that she would help Lord Cerwyn's daughter with the cooking. She had frowned at that, knowing Robb was aware of her immense distaste for the chore. She had never been a very good cook and he had known that very well. This was his way of punishing her for leaving Winterfell. But she also knew Broden had requested Robb let her stay, and as she was no longer Robb's ward, he had no choice but to agree.

Of course she didn't tell Robb she knew this.

She had still begged to be part of his personal guard. But of course he'd refused. Rowan had been the first one chosen when Robb announced the names. They were all young men of the noble houses. From Skagos, her cousin Tristram from House Stane, alongside Kirwyn, Enat's cousin from House Crowl. Aedan and his brother Melot were Friels, not nobles in name but through marriage.

When he'd then named the fierce Dacey Mormont, Fallon had cast him an angry scowl to let him know the insult she felt. He had banned her from joining, but Dacey, a woman, was welcomed because of her skill and strength. She was beautiful, long dark hair and lean in her stature. But she was older than most of Robb's guard, approaching her 28th name day.

She sat up when she thought of Robb, who would soon be leaving for what would be a difficult battle near the Whispering Wood. They would catch the Kingslayer off guard, but still the Lannister forces would be difficult to overcome. It was his hope that Roose Bolton would keep Lord Twyin's forces from warning Jaimie's and Riverrun would be released from it's siege.

The dangers were endless and Robb, who had never been to war, while guarded by experienced soldiers and bannermen, would be facing a difficult fight. She pulled her cloak over her nightgown, the worry in her stomach overwhelming her as she stood.

She knew she had to see him.

She had barely made it out of her tent before she heard voices approaching. She slipped behind one of the larger trees a few tents down from her own as the whispers grew louder. She expected perhaps squires, waking early to prepare for their lords. But as the men grew closer, the voices became more familiar. She nearly stepped out into view when the sound of her name caused her to pause.

"Fallon cannot know," the first one said, the deep commanding voice of her eldest brother. "Knowing the secret nearly cost my father his life and now you want to put that burden on her as well?"

"It is her past we speak of, not your father's," was Aedan's reply. "If it were you, you would want to know. Fallon would want to know."

"I know her well enough that this secret would devastate her. She has already given herself away to Aenys Frey. Her right as the Nighean can no longer be disputed. She has abandoned that right by making this pact."

"But your father says she was never born to be the Nighean. He was the one who made it so, against the will of his Council," Aedan said and Fallon frowned, trying to make sense of the words.

"And you think we should tell her that? Tell her my father made her the Nighean although she has no claim to it."

No claim? she thought.

"Claim or no, Fallon was his choice. She is legitimate by his choosing. She should know the truth, it may stay her desire to wed herself to that animal. Or do you wish to see Aenys Frey take your sister?"

"My sister will still wed herself to him so long as it aids the Young Wolf," Broden said harshly his tone matching that of Aedan's as he spoke of Robb.

"Only another reason I should tell her," Aedan then hissed. "The selfish cad lets her sacrifice herself in his stead. I would forbid her from doing something so foolish."

"And here I thought you knew my sister," Broden said, his tone dark. "She would die for him."

"And you would let her," Aedan barked.

There was silence and for several moments Fallon began to wonder if they had left. her thoughts ran wild with their words, the cryptic conversation made with whispers of her name. But as soon as she thought to step back out she felt a hand behind her mouth and panic rose within her. The words continued but she only heard Robb's whispered order to stay as he brought his other hand up to his mouth, signalling her to keep quiet. She nodded.

"My sister is yours no longer," Broden continued. "Rowan says the Wolf loves her."

"_I_ love her," Aedan hissed. "I would have wed her had your father-"

"My father would have never wed you to her," Broden interrupted. "Lover or not, she was meant for greater. He would not have made her the Nighean otherwise."

"And the Stark is greater than a warrior of Skagos?! Do you think me weak? Do you think I could not protect her?"

"You could not even protect the sister you were _bound_ by. Her ashes litter Skagos because of you. Should we explain that to Fallon as well, how you left Elsbeth to die?" Broden said slowly.

Robb's hold on her tightened then, his hand around her waist, her back flush against his chest as he held her from moving towards them.

"If I would have gone back I would be dead as well," Aedan argued and Broden let loose a cold laugh.

"And yet if it were Fallon?" There was no reply and the answer was as she feared. Aedan would have gone back if it had been her in the fire that night her sister was burned alive. But Fallon would rather he be dead if it meant he had tried to save Elsbeth. "Fallon told me her Wolf saved her from the fire at Winterfell. Nearly died himself pulling her from the flames. That does not sound like a man of selfish motives to me."

"Enough! I will not be the one to tell her of Drystan's message, but the longer you wait, the more she will hate you for keeping it," Aedan said before stomping off.

Soon enough Broden's footsteps were heard as well, walking through the fallen leaves until they disappeared and she could no longer hear his heavy walk. Although the woods were silent, she did not move until Robb did, turning her around to face her. She could barely make out his features in the darkness, but his touch was enough to guide her to where his body was. Still she craned her neck up as if she could see him plain as day, though all she could make out was his jawline.

"How long were you standing here," she whispered to him, grabbing the edge of her cloak in her hands.

"No longer than you," he whispered and she now knew he was close enough that his breath was warm on her cold nose. "I followed you when you came out of your tent."

"I was coming to see you," she replied and he shifted so that he was closer, wrapping his cloak around her shivering body.

"It is good that you did not," he explained. "Olyvar Frey is there, readying my armor for our departure."

"My brother keeps something from me," she said in disbelief and his hand came up to her cheek and she could see that he had understood most of what was said in the Old Tongue just moments ago.

"When he arrived at camp, I knew something was wrong. I could see it when he spoke of you. Your lord father gave him news when they travelled to The Wall," Robb said and she nodded, though he couldn't see her.

"My father has never kept anything from me, in my whole life," she whispered. "If he keeps something from me now, it is to protect me."

"Aedan is still right, you should know whatever it is they keep from you," Robb said and she was surprised he took Aedan's side after the latter had insulted his honor only moments ago.

"Perhaps. He is wrong about you, however," she said, moving her hand up over Robb's chest, the thin tunic warm from the flesh beneath. "You are the least selfish man I've ever known."

"And yet I let you marry a Frey in order to cross a bridge," was Robb's reply, warm against her ear.

"It sure was a pretty bridge, My Lord," she argued in jest, then leaned in so her mouth was over his ear. "And I would not have let you do anything to keep you from moving forward. Your family needs you."

"And _I_ need _you_," he whispered, his head on her shoulder. She took the moment to hold him there, as he often held her. She let her hands find the auburn curls of his hair, memorizing the way they felt in between her fingertips.

"Then aren't you glad you allowed me to stay then?" she asked and she felt him smile against her neck.  
"What was it you were coming to my tent for, My Lady?" he questioned, she could hear that he was smiling.

Now was not the time to wonder about her brother and Aedan. There would be time for that, she thought. Broden was strong, he would return from battle. And then, they would have words about what secrets he hid from her. But now, her time was for Robb.

"I wanted to be sure you didn't leave without saying goodbye, for a second time," she told him and he laughed.

"And how would you send me off?" he asked her, kissing the skin of her exposed neck and her eyes closed at the feeling of his warm mouth on her skin. "I told you I am no good with goodbyes."

"I will teach you, Mo Faol, how to give a proper farewell."

She had hardly finished speaking before he covered her mouth with his. It was a soft kiss, full of longing for her that was no doubt pent up inside of him. There was also a desperation to the way his hands moved under her cloak, seeking out the warmth of her skin through the thin linen of her nightgown. His mouth soon turned as hungry as she felt, eager to be drunk off his kisses. He sought out every part of her exposed skin. Her jaw, her neck, her collarbone soon were all traced by Robb's lips and the ache between her thighs grew with every touch.

Their breaths were staggered, unsteady as their lips were twined. A small moan escaped her throat that caused something to stir within him. His hands tightened around her, moving down over her hips and around her backside until he was lifting her up. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist and there was nothing gentle about the way her back was pushed up against the tree behind her. But she didn't notice anything except him. She could feel his desire for her pushed up against her thigh, the hardness of him making her bite down on his lip, her body responding just as eagerly.

She felt the sting of cold air, only briefly, before his warm hands moved under her nightgown, seeking out the soft flesh of her thighs. She gasped against his lips as he touched the part of her that ached for him. He too let loose a strangled groan as he felt her desire for him increasing around his fingertips.  
Her patience was nearing its end and she fumbled clumsily with the strings of his trousers until he was freed from the constrictive fabric. She felt the dull ache of what was most likely the bark of the tree against her back, but she was soon numb to all except the feeling of him thrusting into her. She clawed at his back, at his arms, anything that would keep her from screaming out at the pleasure she felt as they moved as one.

"Robb," she gasped, his whispered name rolling off of her tongue. His hand rose to her breast and she felt her hips buck into his, their skin damp from the urgency of their movements. He whispered things into her ear, sweet things in her home language that made her cling tighter to him as he said them.

"Mo ghra," he whispered against her lips, holding her face in one of his hands as their mouths met and she felt the passion reaching it's peak as he spoke. 'My love,' he had said, the Old Tongue rolling easily from his lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world and she felt herself smile as she cried out again, this time in the culmination of their passion. She felt as though she were being reduced, in that moment, to the most savage part of herself, the primal desires thrashing out in ecstasy.

It wasn't long after that he was crying out as well, her name moaned against her neck and both were left with ragged breaths and shaking palms. They held each other for many moments as the wind blew hard around them. Neither spoke, only catching their breaths as they stayed in each other's arms.

It wasn't until the dull roar of soldiers rising in the camp was heard that that they pulled apart, both with small smiles on the corner of their lips. She placed her stilled palm on his cheek, lightly feeling the stubble against her flesh and sighed.

"Come back to me, Stark," she said seriously, watching his blue eyes glance over her features as if memorizing them.

"As My Lady commands," was his whispered reply.

Tonight, there would be a battle and by dawn the next day, either many men would would return with their lives or they would litter the battlefield in red. But now was not that time to think of that, she thought. Her only thoughts were of her wolf and the victory he would win.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviewers, I seriously love you. You have beyond exceeded my expectations for this story. I never expected the response I did and I am so thankful to all of you for being so kind and helpful in your reviews. I hope these chapters are living up to your expectations. I do not want to disappoint. Yes, I betrothed Robb to one of the Late Wader Frey's daughters, however be patient, it is still necessary for my story. There will be differences my plot than the original story. But a Frey marriage pact was still necessary. Fallon wanted to try to keep Robb out of it, but she knew Walder would not accept less than his daughter married to the future Lord of Winterfell.

But there are more important things happening along with it. Walder wants Fallon to marry his son for a reason, Broden and Aedan learned something when they met with Drystan Magnar in the North and HINT it has something to do with why Drystan was sent to the Night's Watch to begin with. Fallon will want to know why she is not meant to be the Nighean (the daughter of Skagos) and Aedan is still holding a grudge about Fallon moving on. All of these things will be addressed in the upcoming chapters and we will get a look at Fallon's fiance and more of the Skagosi warriors.

Hope you guys are still enjoying it. Keep the feedback coming because I love it all. Thank you! xoLola


	15. Chapter 15

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**A/N: I just want to note that things from this point forward will be different than the regular story and will be fairly AU. Many things will be the same, however there will also be many differences that are necessary to the plot I am writing. Please do not comment that my 'facts are wrong' because I am very serious about keeping the facts as accurate as possible. Of course the AU part of the plot will change some major canon plotlines. I hope that doesn't bother anyone. Thanks xoLola**

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

**[Fallon]**

The day was breaking, and Winter's snow had found them in the Riverlands. It had covered the ground in a thin layer that was mixed with the dirt underneath it to create a dark mess of mud along the treeline. The wind blew sideways, the cold wetness harsh against the flesh of spectators watching the empty field as time passed slowly.

Fallon was sitting upon Fiachra, feeling on edge as she watched the trees swaying heavily in the breeze, void of all sound except those of their own movements. Lady Stark was sitting upon a horse on her left and neither had spoken since they'd brought their horses towards the edge of the forest, atop a hill that looked over the small valley that was covered in the muddy snow. It was this direction that the men had disappeared late that evening. And, should all go well, it was that direction they would return with their victory.

Robb had taken six thousand men to try and take Jaime Lannister's army by surprise at Riverrun whilst Lord Bolton had led another two thousand to distract Tywin against going to his son's aid. Robb had been hardpressed to let the men go, knowing it would mean possible death to the men against Tywin's massive forces.

Rowan and Aedan, as part of Robb's personal guard, had ridden into battle as well, Broden leading half of the Skagosi soldiers into battle with Robb and the Freys. Lord Crowl stayed behind to help guard the camp and now sat upon his horse to Fallon's right. When she looked up at him, she realized he looked older than she remembered. His wrinkled skin was hard and creased in places that weren't covered by his salt and pepper beard. His hard features reminded her somewhat of Aedan's. They both had the same serious expression when they were thinking.

When he glanced at her she didn't turn away, only stared up into his bright blue eyes the way she remembered looking up at her father. On the horse next to him sat Beardy, Aedan's father and he too glanced at her with an expression much softer through his auburn whiskers.

"They will make it back, all of them," she said to the man, as if he needed reassurance of his sons' safety. But it was her who needed the reassuring, she thought. She was the one who had been unable to sleep as she thought of Robb, sword in hand, her brothers by his side. But she couldn't help but say it as he watched her curiously, filling the silence with something other than a nervous sigh..

"I have no doubt of that," he said confidently. "Your brothers have never lost a battle, nor have my sons." She nodded as she cleared her throat and tightened her gloved fingers around Fiachra's reins.

"Not to worry now, Lonnie," Beardy said in his thick accent. Bard Friel had called her 'Lonnie' since she was a child. It was the same reason most of Aedan's family, aside from Enat called her the name that made her smile so fondly. She looked up at the large man, his cloak making him look larger than he really was. "The Young Wolf has Skagos' best by his side," he told her

She felt the heat rise in cheeks though his words were oddly comforting. He had always known of Aedan's feelings towards her. But it was clear in his expression that he saw what Aedan had yet to notice, that she had changed. And while she kept her distance from Robb as much as she could, it hadn't escaped some of the men that their leader favored Fallon specifically.

"You should be out there as well," the older man said, his tone sour.

"Dearg," Beardy warned but Lord Crowl waved him off.

"You're the Nighean, girl, and the Nighean fights by her men," Dearg told her and she looked away. "How many battles have you fought with your brothers? You were the one who saved my Kirwyn when one of those savage tribesmen of the mountains nearly brought an axe down upon his head."

"I am no longer the Nighean, Dearg" she told him bitterly.

"Your father would be ashamed to hear you say such a thing, after all he's done," Dearg told her and she could feel the disappointment in his voice washing over her.

"Don't listen to this old goat, Lonnie," Beardy told her. "He's spent too much time up in those hills. He's forgotten his manners."

But Dearg was right. It had always been the duty of the Nighean to fight with her men, as a way to honor the warriors who fought for their homeland. They gave their lives to protect hers, and she did the same. When the Magnar still ruled Skagos, the Nighean was seen as the people's princess, of a sort. She represented her family, and her men and would fight to the death to protect them if she had to.

She hadn't been naturally good with a sword like her brothers, nor was she very talented at throwing a spear. But she spent hours on end with Rowan and Broden, learning the skills that would one day be so crucial to her. Her first battle had been against the lowland clan near the shore and she cried when she killed her first man. But it had been necessary, she'd been told. While the base act felt so savage, it had been in protection of her brothers. And from then on they'd trusted her to watch their backs and she did it because she was good at it.

So when Robb had forbidden her to ride, of course she had taken it to heart. But it wasn't just Robb who had forbidden her to ride. Broden too had told her to stay behind, something he had never asked her to do since she had gone on her first raid. She knew his reasoning had something to do with whatever secret their father had divulged. Then there was Aenys, who had tried to keep her locked up at the Twins to keep her away from battle all together. No one agreed to that demand, especially Robb.

Fallon began to feel as though too many men had control of her life.

"Milady Stark!" one of the young squires called out and everyone on the hillside turned to see the boy running up the hill towards them, pointing out at the treeline.

Fallon sat, breathless as she looked out towards the trees, Lady Stark's hand gripping hers tightly as they both watched as a great direwolf emerged from the trees, barking and yipping wildly, horses following. But Fallon felt as though she didn't breathe until the white stallion emerged as well, Robb sitting there upon it racing towards them eagerly.

She let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling the joy swelling in her throat as she realized he was safe. She felt unbalanced as she steadied herself and steadied Fiachra's anxious movements. Lady Stark let loose her tears that had been welling up in her eyes all morning. Both smiled as they looked at one another, their hands still grasped as more horses emerged, and the field was now full of returning soldiers, claiming victory with their cheers.

As they approached Fallon could make out Robb's features, the light hitting his dark hair just right so the auburn tints shone through. His face was red from the wind, covered in dirt from battle and she thought, perhaps, he had never looked more handsome than he did in that moment. She smiled down at him as he caught her eye and his straight lined mouth curved upward in a smile that she pretended was meant just for her. Perhaps it was, or perhaps it was for all of them. But right then she pretended their secret was not their love for one another.

She longed to ride out to meet him, to embrace him, to reward his victory with a passionate kiss. It was what the women of Skagos often did when the men returned from battle. They would meet their men on the field and celebrate with a public display of their love. But she stayed still, knowing it wasn't her place. Knowing that neither of them were free to make such a declaration out in the open.

But she did dismount as they approached, sliding off the back of her mare as she walked forward, her boots in the snow, waiting to greet her brothers as they rode at Robb's side. The men left their horses near the field as they then walked up the steep hill and for the first time, Fallon saw that they dragged several prisoners behind them.

It was one in particular that caught her eye as he was thrown by her feet. Robb came and stood next to her and his mother, looking at her only briefly before looking back down at the man.

The Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister.

"By the time the Lannister men knew what was happening, it had already happened," Robb said and Jaime looked up at them with the Greatjon's sword tucked under his pretty chin.

"Two lovely faces come to greet me?" Jaime said, his voice full of the cockiness she distinctly remembered from their first meeting. "Had I known you'd planned such a kind welcome, Stark, I would have surrendered my sword much quicker."

"I do not want your sword," Catelyn hissed.

Jaime's face fell when he realized he was no longer in a position to use his jokes. He was in an enemy camp. Catelyn's bark was harsh as she demanded her husband, her daughters to the Kingslayer who simply did not have the power to give them to her then. Jaime glanced at Fallon several times during their conversation, watching her with an intent stare that made her instinctively step closer to Robb.

The sound of Theon's threats pulled her from her distraction and she looked up at Robb to insist he keep Jaime alive. But Robb didn't need to be told that Jaime was a valuable prisoner, more valuable alive if they wanted to keep Lord Tywin's wrath at bay. Robb was smart, and he knew Jaime could be the key to getting what they had come for.

"Take him away," Catelyn shouted. "Put him in irons."

The men did as their lady commanded, and the Greatjon pulled Jaime off of his knees until he was standing.

"We could end this war boy, just you and I. You for House Stark, and I for House Lannister. Choose your weapon and we save thousands of lives. Let us end this now."

It wasn't an outrageous proposition. Fallon had been present for many duels in Skagos by warriors from warring tribes. But this was not Skagos, as these were not mountain savages fighting for farmland. Several moments passed as Robb looked at Jaime with a solid glare and Fallon could feel her heart begin to race nervously as she thought he might, for a moment, consider taking him up on his offer. But then he spoke.

"If we did it your way, Kingslayer," Robb said, his voice low. "You'd win."

Jaime smiled.

"We're not doing it your way," Robb finished. "Take him away."

Theon and the Greatjon hauled Jaime off towards the tents and Fallon let loose the tension in her body. He finally looked down at her for the only the second time since climbing the hill and she could see the weariness in his eyes. It had been a long battle and they had won. But at a cost.

"How many lives?" she asked him and he sighed heavily.

"Three of my guard, both of Karstark's sons. Several others the Kingslayer brought down trying to get at me. None of that includes the men I sent to slaughter under Lord Bolton. Tywin's army would have crushed them."

Fallon stayed her hand from reaching out to him then, noticing several of his men were watching them intently. Aedan stood close, alongside Broden and her cousin Tristram Stane.

"Their sacrifice was great, as you are still here," she whispered and his blue eyes met hers. "The gods planned for you a victory," she told him the words she had memorized from her youth. "And so-"

"-let the honor of the victor be yours," echoed the Skagosi men behind her. She and Robb glanced at the men around her, each of them holding their longswords to the sky as they spoke. To Robb the action might have looked strange, but for Fallon, it was comforting, a familiar part of her home.

"You are the victor, Stark," Broden said with a nod of respect. "Let us pray that you have many more successes yet."

Robb looked out on the crowd of men who now had his attention. The crowd was thick as they awaited a speech full of pride over their victory. But Fallon saw the pain in Robb's eyes, the guilt that he still harbored whenever his father was mentioned.

"We may be the victors, but we have conquered nothing. My father is still chained in the dungeons of the Red Keep and my sisters are held captive by the Queen. We are still slaves to the Iron Throne, when the North should be free from their clutches. They want to swallow us up in battle but we will be heard. And until we are, this war is far from over."

Fallon watched as he walked away, towards the direction of his tent, Grey Wind following eagerly. She watched his retreating form, keeping her boots planted in the snow beneath her. Her hair blew wildly as the breeze came through, bringing down flakes of snow against her cheek.

Many of the men were on their way now, scurrying towards where the meal had been prepared for their arrival. It was her job to serve them, she thought, but she couldn't move from her place as she watched Robb disappear behind the long lines of tents and out of sight. Even if she couldn't go after him, she thought, she was not sure of what she could say. Robb was a sensitive soul, not used to the killing of men in battle. She remembered what it was like, the first time she killed another human being.

"Fallon," she heard from beside her and turned to see Lady Stark leaning in conceal her words from any others passing by. "Go to him."

Fallon was sure she'd misunderstood, but the look in the woman's eyes told her she meant what she said. But Fallon shook her head.

"I cannot. We should not be seen together," she said but the older woman's hand moved to her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"He needs you," the woman said reassuringly and Fallon could feel her feet urging her to move as she fought the urge.

"What am I supposed to say?" Fallon asked.

"Say whatever you need to, to make him believe he can do this. He does not need the words of his mother right now. He needs the faith of the woman he loves," she said and Fallon could feel the heat rush to her cheeks.

"My Lady-" she started but she was stopped by the woman's knowing eyes.

Fallon didn't attempt to argue this time, knowing that anything she would say would only cause Lady Stark to counter whatever was spoken. Therefore she lifted the hem of her simple dress, now soaked from the wet ground, and made her way towards the tent where she'd find Robb.

On her way, she received several stares from Frey men, those who knew she would soon be married to the family. Aenys' men would smirk at her and sometimes shout obscene comments that she chose to ignore. Then there were the brothers who often looked at her with pity. Olyvar had told her many times that she would do well not to anger her future husband by spending time with her Skagosi soldiers. But she had ignored him then, just as she would if Aenys had commanded her himself.

Robb's tent flap was closed, which meant he was wanting his privacy. She stood outside the entrance and looked around several times before finally making her way through. Robb was sitting on his makeshift bed, his head buried in his hands. She was sure he'd heard her walk in, but he didn't react as she stepped forward. He didn't look up even as she knelt in front of him and placed her hand on his, pulling it down so she could see his face. When his eyes met hers, she saw the uncertainty in them, the anguish built up and burning through the blue orbs that were now clouded with guilt.

"Tell me," she whispered, stroking his face and his closed his eyes at her touch.

"I was not ready for this," Robb said then, his voice heavy.

"You were as ready as any man is, before his first battle," she assured him. "You came back the victor."

"And yet I lost so much," he said quickly. "Lord Karstark will not praise me for my victory when he learns of his sons' deaths."

"They fought to protect you, as would anyone here," she said sternly. "You cannot belittle their deaths by blaming yourself. They chose to fight for a cause they believed in. We all believe in it."

"But is it enough? The men fight for me because they are bound, and I fight to bring my family home. But is that enough to justify their deaths?" Robb asked. "What if it had been your brothers. Would you be sitting here with the same words?"

"I would," she whispered confidently. "My brothers would not be here if they did not trust you. They support you, as do I. They know they are not invincible, that the gods may choose to take them at any moment. Men are but mortal beings. It is the glory they win in battle that will live on when their bodies have long turned to dust."

"I cannot stop feeling as though the deaths of the Karstarks are blood on my hands," he said, the pain burning through his words. She squeezed his hand.

"Their blood is on the Lannisters' hands. On Joffrey's hands. Those Lions seek to bend the North to their will. You rising up against the tyranny of monsters like them is honorable and brave," she explained. "There is nothing more honorable than fighting for what is right and Robb. What you are doing is the right thing. People will die, many more by the time the warring has ended. But their deaths will never be in vain so long as you continue fighting for what is right."

"What if I am not strong enough? I sit in here, feeling like a child and yet your brothers fight bravely, without fear."

"It is not without fear, that they fight, Mo Faol," she insisted. "Is it death you fear?" she asked. "Or failure?"

"Perhaps it is both," he contemplated quietly. "How did you overcome your fear, when you went into battle with them?" he asked her. It was a good question, one that she had not considered much in her youth.

"I was fifteen when Broden took me to battle. Of course I was scared, I was only a child. Most women is Skagos are not meant to fight. But I was the Nighean. The Nighean fights with her men. I feared failure but never was I scared of death. The gods gave me life so that I may fulfill my purpose to them. If it is my time to die, then I know I have fulfilled my purpose," she explained. "When I rode into the fighting I did not think of myself or fear what would happen if someone cut me down with their sword. I could only think of the villagers that had been captured by the hill tribesmen and of protecting those I fought alongside. Killing is never easy, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make for the greater good."

"You make it sound so honorable," he whispered. "I killed men today too, took their lives from them. I felt no honor in their deaths."

"You killed men that were ordered to kill _you_. You killed them so less of your men would die by their sword. And you killed them so you could take back what is yours," she told him, her voice hard. "There is no shame in that."

"My men won't want to follow a boy who is ashamed to kill," he said.

"You're men saw a _man_ just now, reminding them that glory is not what they fight for. They saw a man who fights with _honor_," she whispered. "If they ever saw you as a boy, Mo Faol, they do so no longer."

They sat in silence for only a few moments before she rose to leave. She would be expected to be at the serving line, to feed the men the meal she'd spent all morning cooking. It would be a mediocre meal at best, she knew that. But the men wouldn't mind so much so long as their bellies were full. As she rose to leave, Robb held her back down towards him and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, stroking her face with his calloused hand.

No words were needed after that, as she then rose from her spot and left him there in the tent.

And she just hoped her words would help.

* * *

**[Robb]**

Beyond the trees, the sun had long fallen in the sky and in it's place, the night opened up with a brilliance of stars hung above their heads. Robb's eyes had been diverted for the better part of an hour as they searched the skies for healing.

It had been hours after Fallon left his tent that he finally decided to leave his confines. It had been his stomach that urged him to leave, wandering around the camp until he came across the men, celebrating their victory with food and wine.

Fallon was in the middle of it, alongside Jonella Cerwyn, serving men bowls of stew and legs of whatever meat they had brought along. She was tired, he could tell by the look in her eyes as she passed a bowl into the hands of a man twice her size. Next to her stood Jonella, Medger Cerwyn's eldest child. She was nearly thirty if Robb had to guess, her hair several shades lighter than Fallon's raven locks. Most likely she'd been brought to warm Robb's bed, he'd been told by the Theon. Robb had since steered clear of her and her father's eager expression.

Rowan was sitting on the log nearest to Robb as they both ate in silence. Neither had said anything since they sat down, but both stared over at Fallon and Robb couldn't help but wonder if Rowan knew anything about the conversation he'd overheard between Broden and Rowan the previous morning.

Robb felt as though he might ask until he saw the Greatjon approaching Fallon with an empty plate. Robb knew the two of them enjoyed making the other look like a fool. Something in the large man's swagger made him believe now would be no different. There were several others who glanced at the two as the Greatjon approached her and Fallon's gaze didn't move from the service line even as he pushed through the men to stand straight in front of her.

"You call _this_ food girl?" he said, his voice booming "How are me and my men supposed to fight a war eating _shite_ like this?" He then paused and glanced at Robb. "I'm sorry, My Lord, but yer woman has is a damned _awful_ cook."

"Then let us trade, My Lord," she said, her voice carrying over the crowd of spectators. "I would be happy to command the vanguard tomorrow, in your stead, if you feel more _comfortable_ in the kitchen."

The Greatjon's smile faded somewhat as he looked down at the girl who was only a foot in front of him, craning her neck to see him with her hand on her hips and scowl on her mouth.

"And how long, _little girl_, do you think you'd last out on the field?"

"Much longer than you My Lord," she said, her voice short and as the Greatjon stepped towards her, Robb rose to intervene.

But it was Rowan's hand that stayed him, holding him in his place on the log by the fire. Robb glanced at Rowan who simply shook his head. Grey Wind was growling lightly, his attention now on the large man threatening his master's woman. Robb then glanced to Broden, and several other Skagosi men who sat nearby. Broden was sharpening his knife, watching his sister only in mild interest, whilst Bard Crowl took a fierce bite out of the turkey leg in his hand. Not one of them seemed concerned. Several, including Aedan, even looked amused.

"He needs to be stopped," Robb whispered and Rowan nodded.

"He _will_ be," he replied and Robb glanced up to see to two glaring at one another.

"You got somethin' to say, _girl_, then go on. _Say it_," the man said angrily and Fallon smiled.

"If you worried more about your men out there, stopped being so damn reckless rather than spending all your time complaining about my food, then _perhaps_ you'd save more lives rather than condemning them," she said her voice hard and the Greatjon stared down at her, the frown beneath his great beard deepening. "You're going to get yourself and the others killed if you don't fight more defensively. You fight like a old fool."

With that the man's hand was around her neck and Robb was quick to his feet. Rowan's arms held him back and Broden still hadn't moved as he looked up lazily from his knife. Robb didn't understand why all her men seemed so indifferent to her current state. Several of the Lords, even Roose Bolton had taken a step towards the Greatjon as well as if they were about to intervene, whilst Robb was still trying to squirm out of the arms of Rowan Magnar.

But just as soon as the man's hand closed in around her neck, a knife was placed against his neck. The Greatjon stared, dumbfounded, down at the girl who held her long dagger against his throat, hard enough to draw the man's blood.

She then leaned in and whispered something in the man's ear, an action that caused nearly ever man standing nearby to lean in with hopes of catching what she was saying. Robb couldn't hear her, but he knew what it looked like when Fallon Magnar was angry. She was no doubt threatening his life and his humility before the entire camp.

When she pulled back her knife, placing it back in its sheath, the Greatjon looked down at the small girl, pulling his hand back to his side as he did so. He stared at her for what seemed like many moments before placing his hands under her arms and lifting her to his height. He then planted his lips upon hers with a hard kiss and finally set her back down upon the ground, laughing as he did so.

"If I weren't a married man, Milday, I'd make it my life's mission to tame that mouth of yours," he said, his voice loud and clear, causing the men around him roar with laughter, including the Skagosi warriors as they watched their Nighean blush a pretty shade of pink as she too laughed, her hands on the Greatjon's shoulders.

"And if you weren't a married man, Lord Umber, I might just let you try," she replied in jest and Robb felt his lips curve up into a smile for the first time since he'd left for the Whispering Wood.

He would have never have gambled that Fallon and the Greatjon would put their differences aside so easily.. But the man loved a challenge and Fallon, if nothing more, was a challenge. Robb had seen that firsthand. But she was also brave and stronger than he'd realized. He'd never seen her as a danger until that knife came up to the old man's throat.

The men were in a merry mood, then. The Greatjon had dragged Fallon by the fire where she matched him step for step on several of the Northern dances she'd learned while at Winterfell. She was pink-faced and full of laughter as they danced and Robb couldn't tear his eyes away from her in that joyful scene. The music was loud and the men were drunk in their spirits. But all the while he couldn't help but worry something was wrong that he just wasn't seeing.

"I can see something plagues you," Rowan said, and Robb looked back towards him. "About Fallon?"

"Perhaps," Robb said, looking over his shoulder briefly. "But I cannot be sure."

"Is this about what you overheard my brother speaking of?" he asked and Robb's brow furrowed in surprise.

"How-" he began but Rowan smiled.

"My sister tells me everything, well, nearly everything. She is rather tight-lipped when it comes to you, Stark," Rowan replied and Robb let loose a smile.

"Then you know, what Broden is hiding?" Robb assumed but Rowan shook his head.

"No, but I too noticed something when my brother arrived at camp. And when Fallon came to me with what she overheard, my suspicions were confirmed." They both were whispering now, careful not to let anyone overhear.

"What would your father want to hide from her?" he asked and Rowan sighed. It was the expression that he wore that made Robb believe that perhaps there was more to the story than whatever secret Broden was hiding.

"Come," Rowan said, standing. "Let us walk."

Robb followed Rowan through the camp until they reached a wooded area, a short distance from where edge of camp rested. Grey Wind followed, like the curious direwolf that he was and sat himself at Robb's side, looking up at Rowan with the same expectant look Robb was sure he was wearing as well.

"I am too young to remember the day Fallon was born, but Bard Friel knows the story as well as any other. He tells the story every year on her nameday and our father has always taken great pride in retelling it as well," Rowan began, his voice low as he periodically looked over his shoulder. "My mother was very much as Fallon is today. She took great honor in fighting battles alongside my father, rode the countryside atop her great mare as any man would. She was nearly to term with Fallon in her belly the year of the Great Raid."

Robb remembered the story of the Great Raid. Fallon had told the story to Bran several times but had never mentioned her birth in the story before. He listened to Rowan retell the story, many of the parts Fallon told were left out and Robb could see that Rowan was not as good a storyteller as his sister. But Fallon was very good at creating a vision for those who listened, helping the listener to envision the battles in great depth as if they had experienced it themselves.

Rowan told of the pirates that came from the east, from Essos. They came with their ships and brutalized the coast, taking Skagosi women as captives. Drystan Magnar rode out, calling the Lords from the northern part of the island to help. Kingshouse took the brunt of the attack as it was nearest to the port where the savages attacked. Drystan and his men held the castle and fought the pirates as they made land.

Fallon's mother, Moira, was sent away with the other children, meant to stay clear of the fighting. Bard and several of Drystan's most trusted men lead them north, only to be stopped by one of the forest rebel tribes. They were outnumbered and Bard urged Moira to run. But they were surrounded, Moira's only option was to fight alongside the men. She killed five men and soon after went into an early labor with Fallon.

"She was born beneath the ancient weirwood, the winds ranging around them, the ground thick with snow from the harsh winter," Rowan explained. "Bard said her cries were so loud every man bent his knee into the snow as my mother held her in her arms. The Great Raid was ended that day, and while Lords Stane and Crowl captured the pirate leaders for execution, my father rode out to meet his new daughter. Bard says my father never looked upon one of his children with a such an expression. Brought him to tears, it is said."

"Is that when he decided she was to be the Nighean?" Robb asked and Rowan shook his head.

"That day I do remember," he said fondly. "My Father called the Great Council, the men of the families who had served House Magnar since before the Iron Throne took our kingdom. It was Fallon's twelfth nameday when it was announced, though the Council spent days arguing with my father over his decision. Bard never told me the reason, but I knew it had something to do with why my father was so protective of her."

"Broden says his decision was against their will, that she was not meant to be the Nighean at all," Robb recalled. But Rowan knew this. Grey grew restless at his feet, nipping at Robb's hand but he steadied him with a calming stroke of his fur as he waited for Broden's reply.

"You have never met my father?" Rowan asked.

"No."

"He is a large man with a large beard and an even larger temper. I have always been told that I look a great deal like him, that one day when I grow a beard I will be the spitting image of Drystan Magnar. Did Fallon tell you about Keeran?" Rowan asked and Robb nodded. He remembered the story of Fallon's eldest brother, Drystan's heir who died too young. "He too looked much like my father, as did Corran. But Broden took after my mother. Her darker hair and lighter eyes. You've seen the resemblance in Fallon?"

"Yes, there is a great resemblance between them," Robb replied and pieces started to fall in front of him like a great puzzle being revealed before his eyes.

"Broden has my father's eyes and his build. But Fallon, she looks nothing like my father. She is beautiful like my mother was and strong willed. But Fallon has always more determined than any of my sisters. She was discontent with settling for the average life my mother had planned f her. Even she knew she was meant for more." Rowan paused then and his adoration of his sister faded from his eyes, replaced then with disappointment. "But even as a young age I knew there was something different about her. Mother never doted on Fallon the way she did with Albertha and Elsbeth. She stayed quite distant for years."

"Fallon said she admired her mother," Robb told him and Rowan raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps she did. Fallon was very private about her thoughts on our parents growing up. Our father gave her the attention my mother deprived her of. Fallon never understood what she had done wrong. She thought perhaps it was the Nighean title that made her so different. But when my father came to Westeros, just before he was arrested for treason, something happened. He wouldn't tell us what, but I knew it had something to do with my sister. All the lies, all the covering up, I knew all of a sudden there must have been a reason Fallon was treated so differently. Ostracized by my mother, sheltered by my father. And then suddenly I knew."

"You don't think-" Robb started and then took a breath. "You don't think she was illegitimate, do you?" he asked, having trouble saying the word. Rowan looked away.

"My mother was loyal to my father. But-" Rowan whispered. "Yes," she said then, his voice staggering slightly. "I think Fallon is not my father's daughter."

"Then why make her the Nighean?"

"Because my father loved her, above his other daughters. I think perhaps he was angry when my mother bore him another man's bastard. But I think the moment he laid eyes on her something changed."

"So now the question remains," Robb said, lost in his thoughts. "Who's secret would your father face a beheading for? If Fallon has anything to do with why your father was arrested for treason, then perhaps someone learned the same secret."

"My father could have sent me, or Corran to live with your family but he chose Fallon for a reason. No Nighean has ever been denied the tradition of the games. Someone not only knew she was not the trueborn daughter of Magnar, but they knew who her real father was as well."

"Do you think she knows?" Robb asked and Rowan shrugged.

"She is my sister, no matter who fathered her. That is enough for me but I don't think it would be enough for Fallon. She lives her life based on her duty to our homeland. If that were taken from her, I am sure you would know."

Robb looked at Rowan in the dark. He could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke his words and knew it was hard for him to admit. Fallon had once said that in Skagos, bastard children were always legitimized by their fathers. She had once said she would accept any illegitimate children her father brought into the family.

But perhaps she never considered that she, herself, was a child of adultery.

* * *

**[Aedan]**

Everywhere the sound of celebration filled the night. The Young Wolf had won another victory for the North and for the Riverlands, freeing Riverrun from the holds of the Lannisters and back into the hands of his uncle. The Battle of the Camps, they had dubbed it and what a battle it had been.

The snow was still fresh with blood on the field and Aedan could still hear the screams of the men. He had always thrived in battle. He lived for the rush in his veins as he raced towards someone with the heavy sword in his hands. He and most of the Skagosi men had joined Stark's vanguard for the fight. Rowan had finally convinced both the wolf and Broden to let Fallon take her rightful place in battle.

And she was breathtaking.

Long after he'd first met Fallon that fateful day by the river, he had finally admitted to his family his affection for the younger girl. Of course his family wasn't surprised, Enat least of all who had laughed and said nothing had ever been more obvious. But his mother had voiced her disappointment. She wanted much more for Aedan who was the elder of the Friel sons. Melot was Fallon's age, a spirit much like his and a lust for battle.

Trysa Friel did not like that her son was so infatuated with the Nighean of House Magnar. She thought Fallon was a silly girl, too full of passion and spirit. "She'll never be tamed," she'd told him in anger what evening when she'd had too much to drink. Bard had of course silenced her with his hand.

But Aedan had disagreed, finding Fallon's passion to be one of her many amiable qualities. He'd spent days with her, wandering the lands and stealing her kisses. And when he'd taken her to bed for the first time, he'd known she was to be his. It was what made it so difficult when her father offered him Elsbeth's hand.

Elsbeth was a beautiful young woman, two years Fallon's senior. She had long light brown hair that contrasted the blackness of Fallon's. Elsbeth had a calm and quiet demeanor whilst Fallon loved to laugh. There was no contest for Aedan. Fallon was plainer, but she was the one he wanted. And she had given it up because it was her duty and since had all but pushed him from her life.

But on the battlefield it was as if all was forgotten.

She fought with the same passion he remembered back in Skagos. The sword in her hand did not rest until the battle was over. Her fierceness was infectious, causing the Skagosi men to feel as powerful as they did back home, once more. Rowan too smiled as his sister rode into the thickest part of the fight, ignoring Robb's shouts in protest. Aedan had laughed at the Young Wolf who tried to tame her with his commands, the worry in his eyes showing he did not yet trust the woman he claimed to love to do what she was born to do. She was small and not as powerful in battle as perhaps Dacey Mormont. But she was swift in her movements and always kept the advantage with her height.

Even the Stark's beast of a direwolf ran with ferocity by his master's side, ripping and tearing as he saw fit, fighting for both the taste of flesh and his master's safety. Once, Aedan had even seen him take down a bull of a man who pulled Fallon up by her hair. Not a second was wasted before the beast tore the man's arm from his shoulder.

She had quickly then ran towards Robb, guarding him from any attacks that came from behind. That had made Aedan frown, seeing his Fallon take up the position she had once given him. The Nighean protected her men, specifically the commander of the flank. Stark commanded the flank with Broden and the Greatjon and Fallon never left his side, slicing down any man who came near him.

The Greatjon had given a hearty laugh when the battle was over, lifting her into the air in great amusement over her success. Even the Young Wolf had embraced her with a smile, calling the battle a great success thanks to her skill with that sword of hers.

Not once did she turn to Aedan. It was the first time they'd fought together that she hadn't run to him with a kiss to celebrate their victory.

Now she walked through camp, her trousers filthy and her face stained with dried blood. But she did it all with a wide grin. Aedan followed, many steps behind as he watched her, careful to quiet his steps, to stay far enough behind that the sound of his boots in the snow would not draw her attention. The direction she walked was one he'd seen her take many times before, the route would eventually end at the tent of Robb Stark and she'd share his bed just as she had the night before.

It infuriated him, the thought of the boy's hands on his woman, the woman he had fought for and would die for should she should wish it. She had a ridiculous grin on her face as she approached the tent and slowly walked through the flap. They disappeared behind the fabric and Aedan stood outside, watching as a candle was lit. He could see the outline of her body, her hands raised a she pulled the tunic over her head and tossed it to the ground. Bending forward, she pulled the trousers down her legs and Aedan felt his breath quicken at every movement.

He saw her turn, and several moments later he saw the outline of a male. Aedan's gloved hands were now balled into fists, one clenched against his side where his sword was still holstered to his hip. Stark grabbed her then, pushing her down onto the ground and the figures were lost in a blur of a shadow. Aedan frowned at the forcefulness of the action. Fallon had never been one for violence, especially when it came to sex.

He was ready to walk away then, find a bottle of whiskey and drink himself into an angry stupor when he heard her muffled cry turn into a shout. Aedan wasted only a minute before running towards the tent, bursting through the flaps to see her on the ground, sitting atop the man in a thin garment that she wore beneath her battle clothes. But the man she was straddling, her knife to his throat was not Robb Stark, but Aenys Frey, all six foot of him.

Aedan lowered his sword then as he looked at her in surprise.

"I thought-" Aedan said but the look she gave him silenced whatever he was going to say next. Was he going to admit that he had hoped it was Stark? That he had hoped he'd get the chance to show her she was wrong?

She looked back down at the man she was to wed, the man who was as old as Dearg Crowl in his many years.

"You will leave," she whispered. "You will not touch me again."

"You are to be my wife you little cu-" the man didn't finish before she slapped him and he rolled on top of her, subduing her weak frame with his large body. Aedan ran to him and forced him off of her, holding a sword under his chin.

"Aedan don't," she whispered quickly.

"You ask me to let him live?" he asked angrily. "After what he was going to do to you?"

"If you kill him, his family will withdraw from this war," she said, her voice hoarse.

Aedan looked down at the older man who was now smirking up at him because he knew she was right. Aedan too knew she was right. But his hands had been on her. Betrothed or not the man would not put his hands on her. So he pulled back and let his fist collide with the man's face and dragged him from the tent, throwing him out into the snow.

"You're making a grave mistake, boy," Aenys said harshly. He stood slowly, holding his face and walked away. Aedan knew then that he had won.

He turned back to Fallon who was now pulling on a robe over her exposed body. She stepped slowly towards the table where she grabbed a goblet and pulled it to her lips. she didn't glance at him for several minutes as she stared into the cup.

"Lonnie," he whispered and she closed her eyes.

"You should go too," she said, her eyes still closed. He stepped towards her but she took a step back. "Aedan." Her voice sounds as though she were in pain.

"Don't do this to me," he whispered, pulling her towards him. She kept her eyes away from his. "Don't push me away like I'm that Stark of yours."

"Don't pretend like you know him," she said, her eyes finally meeting his. "You don't know anything about him."

"I know he's not here," he said angrily. "I know he wasn't here to help you, but I was."

"If you hadn't walked in I'd have taken care of him myself," she hissed. "Robb will be here soon, which is why you need to go."

"Lonnie," he said again and she slapped him.

"Don't!" she shouted. "Don't call me that!"

The anger in her voice surprised him as she struggled away from him, pushing against him with more force than he would have expected but he held her there, his strength greater than hers, especially her weakened body, tired from the fighting.

"What is wrong with you?!" he said, his voice now raised as well. "What happened to us?"

Their bodies were close then as he held her tight and he placed his hand against her face. Her face was still covered in dried blood, the vibrancy off her eyes calming his beating chest. But it was the look in her eyes that was no longer that familiar kindness he knew so well. It was replaced with something else.

"Do you feel nothing for me?" he asked her and she sighed, pulling her hand to her throat as she massaged it lightly in her fingers to reduce the swelling that he could see rising by the way she swallowed with difficulty.

"What I feel for you, Aedan is love," she whispered and he felt a flutter of hope before she held her hand up to stay his mouth that then lowered towards hers. "But no longer the love I once felt," she admitted and he felt his own throat begin to tighten.

"Now you love him?" he asked.

Her eyes no longer faltered, but instead were steady as she looked up at him.

"Yes. I love him," she said firmly and he laughed.

"And you think this will end well?" he asked. "You and the Young Wolf are bound for tragedy. You've given both of your fates to House Frey. You think this will last?"

"I have done what I must in order to help him save his family."

"And what about your family?!" he shouted. "You have a responsibility, or have you forgotten?"

"What family?!" she yelled back, pushing him off of her. "I have Rowan and Broden now. Albertha's gone and you-" she said, her chest heaving angrily. "You let the others die."

His eyes widened then as she spoke.

"I have no responsibilities to Skagos anymore," she said, her voice strained. "I am not the Nichean, and I never was. But you already knew that."

"Who told you," he whispered and she averted her gaze to the floor.

"Does it matter?"

"Broden said he wasn't going to tell you," he said. "Lonnie I was going to say something, but he said I couldn't. Your father didn't want you to know that you weren't a Magnar. But can't you see? Can't you see that means we can be together?"

At her expression then he knew he'd said too much. Whatever she knew it was not the whole truth and he had just said the words that had caused her to look as though he had stabbed her through the chest. She began shaking now and only shoved his hands away when he tried to comfort her.

"Fallon," he said carefully and she was shaking her head.

"No," was all she said in reply.

"But I thought-"

"You thought wrong. This thing, this part of me that felt for you, it's-" she whispered, her hands grabbing onto the chair dear the desk in order to keep her stead. "I've changed, why can't you see that."

"It's not you that's changed," he tried to tell her.

"Yes it is," she said quietly, desperately. "I am no longer that wide-eyed little girl you found by the river. I am not the girl that fell for your sweet words and promises of an adventurous life. She's gone, dead."

"She's still there, Lonnie, you just have to fight for her," he argued.

"Everyone has seen that I am a new person, that I've grown from that girl into a woman."

"Of course you've grown, we all have."

"No!" she yelled. "You are not listening. I am not her. I am Fallon, a...a bastard child. I was never meant to be that girl. And you and I, we were never meant to be together."

"But you were meant to be with him?" he asked bitterly, feeling his rage begin to build.

"I don't know who I am meant for, if anyone. But I know this here, us, it has long passed."

"I can change," he begged but she shook her head. "I don't want you to change Aedan. You are a good man, and I love you for that. But my heart, I've given it to Robb."

She turned away from him then and she didn't look back. Aedan tried several times to speak but no words seemed to form as he moved his lips. He watched her move towards a trunk and pull out something he didn't notice, some sort of cloth he assumed. But not once did she look back at him and suddenly, as if the wool had been pulled from his eyes, he saw the change that she spoke of. The old Fallon would have never let him stand there, his eyes full of the heartbreak he felt. The old Fallon would have never said the harsh words she'd said.

She would have never fallen out of love with him.

But here she was, this woman he no longer seemed to recognize and he felt the sudden urge to flee. His eyes took in her features, her black hair falling down her back as she pulled it from the ribbon holding it back. Her green eyes caught his once more as she looked back over his shoulder and he thought he might object once more before he saw the finality in her gaze. And then it was decided.

"So be it." he said, his voice stern and angry as he turned away, walking out of the tent and into the cold night.

He wasn't sure how long he walked until he reached the camp, but he knew what he sought out and it was something that would remove him from his visions of the raven-haired beauty and her green eyes from hell.

* * *

**[Fallon]**

She knew the excitement was winding down as the flap door opened. She saw his eyes pause on her form as she sat there, looking up at him from the steaming bath. The candlestick was melted low,leaving only a few still lit on the desk nearby as she sat there, pulling her fingertips through her long hair as he approached her slowly.

"You're awake," he said, not a question but an observation as he removed his cloak and then his gloves, letting them fall to the ground with his eyes still locked on hers.

"And you, My Lord, have been drinking," she whispered with as much playfulness as she could muster, lowering her chin to keep him from seeing the redness in her eyes.

The steam rose around her as she watched him, removing his vest, then his gloves, his belt with his holster, lying it all to the side so that he was only in his tunic and trousers. His boots came next followed by his tunic and Fallon couldn't help but feel her breath catch at the sight of his exposed chest, covered in a thin layer of sweat that glistened in the flickering candlelight.

If her heart wasn't already racing, it was now beating out of her chest as he pulled down his trousers, leaving a very nude and very exquisite Robb Stark in their place. Fallon was sure she'd never a seen a more perfect human being in all of her life. The way he looked at her caused the little hairs on the back of her neck to stand tall.

"May I join you, My Lady?" he asked, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper that made Fallon tremble in a way she had not known possible.

She could barely nod her head as he then approached and she moved where he could then climb in behind her, the small tub nearly overflowing with the both of them displacing so much of it. But her only thought was on his hands as he pulled her between his legs and her back was pressed lightly to his chest. The feeling of her hot flesh against his, contrasting as cold caused her to sigh, and she felt herself relax into his body. They molded together for several moments, finding the exact spot that made them fit together so easily before she felt his fingers twine with her own.

There was an ache in her throat, as she closed her eyes and imagined they were somewhere else, somewhere that she didn't have to lie to his squire and say that his master would have a whore from the village in his bed that night, that they shouldn't be disturbed. Somewhere they could hold hands like this where everyone could see.

"You fought well today, my love," he whispered in her ear and she felt chills appear across her skin. He kissed the soft flesh of her shoulder, leaving a trail with his lips until they reached the top of her neck. She felt him laugh then, a small laugh that made her sign with comfort. "I never thought I'd say that."

"I was happy, fighting by your side," she whispered, toying with the hair on his knee that stuck out of the water, exposed to the cold. "I should so like to do it again."

"I can't see how I can stop you now that you've got a taste for it," he said, the laughter in his voice brief before he sighed against her hair.

She turned to look at him and he pushed her hair from her face, kissing her forehead. She frowned.

"What plagues you?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Nothing," he said after a long, contemplative pause. She could see in his eyes that there was something he wanted to say, something on his mind that he wanted to entrust her with but for some reason the words never left his lips.

She kisses the side of his mouth, the side that he favored when he smiled, for a short moment before turning back to lay against him. His hands moved over her skin with the lightest of touches, tracing the flesh of her calf, back and forth, back and forth as he stared off into the distance.

Fallon realized that while something bothered him, she hadn't felt this at ease in days. No words needed to be said to comfort her, only the feeling of his body so near was enough to make her feel safe, wanted. Loved.

She loved this man, her heart told her so with the way it swelled every time he entered a room. While her mind was still on the words Aedan had said, on the revelation she had just stumbled upon. Her family was not her own, not fully anyways and deep down she began to wonder if she always knew it. Somehow, despite the acceptance her people offered her, she always felt as if she didn't quite belong somehow. Since she'd found out she wondered what Robb would think of such a notion, if it were even the truth.

"Mo Faol?" she whispered into the silence and she felt him lift his head as if he was snapping out of a trance.

"Yes, Mo Gra," he said and she felt her heart dance at his words.

His voice was tired, his breath warm on her ear and the words suddenly didn't seem as important as this was right now. She laid her head back against his chest, pushing herself lower into the water and she was engulfed by the warmth of it as she closed her eyes, squeezing his hand.

"Nothing," she replied then.

It didn't seem as important then as perhaps it was. Fallon knew she would have to talk to him sooner rather than later but for now she wanted this. She was tired of crying, of fighting, of pushing people away. Right now all she wanted was this man and she thought, perhaps, tomorrow she'd say what was on her mind.

Tomorrow she would face the world as whatever broken thing she was. A bastard. A fiance to that monster Frey. But until then she would embrace the only thing that mattered to her.

Until then. She was his.

* * *

**A/N: Posting this with tired eyes. Sorry if I missed some typos. I'm wiped. Hope you enjoy. Please oh please leave me some love to wake up to. Thank you is never enough for all the inspiration you amazing readers have given me. xoLola**


	16. Chapter 16

**Savages**  
**By LolaStark**

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

**[Broden]**

Broden Magnar had never been a particularly emotional person. He had been the second son of Drystan Magnar, and therefore his life had been planned out for him since birth. Of course it was Keeran who would be heir of Kingshouse, that was the birthright of the firstborn. But Broden knew in his heart that he was born for greatness beyond that of a second son.

He had been hardened by discipline, by duty. His father expected him to be ready should the time ever come. But there were times when he was overwhelmed by it all, and the emotion deep within the barriers of the walls he built within him would creep out. Keeran's death had been one of those times. Broden had seen much death in his life. His mother was the first and he stood by his father without a tear in those light eyes of his.

But when his eldest brother fell to his death, something rushed over him. The grief was mixed with guilt. He wasn't guilty of Keeran's death, but he was guilty of envy and greed in the most savage part of his heart. He had envied his brother, lusted after the power he would one day have on the seat of House Magnar. Broden had thought it was the gods laughing at him, punishing him maybe for his hateful thoughts. But no matter how much he wanted to be the firstborn, to have the respect and the honor, never had he wished his brother dead.

Since then he hadn't cried, not when his father had been taken, not when his siblings had perished in the fires. Not even as he held his youngest sister in his arms as she sobbed against his chest and cried out to the gods. Fallon had a fierceness about her that reminded him of himself in many ways. She too held a lot back from most. But she mourned with the same passion that she fought with in battle.

And today she mourned as well.

It had been three days since the raven had come. The camp had barely woken from their victorious stupor, the morning crept over the horizon slowly and steadily until the sun made it's first appearance through the clouds. It was then that the raven had flown in to deliver the news.

Lord Eddard Stark had been executed for treason.

No one saw their commander for the remainder of that day. Broden had immediately sought out Fallon who he found in her tent, red eyed and in disbelief. It was like the day their mother had passed when he'd found her on the cliff-face near the sea of their family home.

Now as they stood out in the cold of the night, the snow falling down on their heads as the fire burned brightly at their backs, he reached for Fallon's hand, holding it tightly in hers as she stood before the men. Her expression now matched his as they stared at Lord Umber who had caused a great commotion by spitting at the name Baratheon and the Iron Throne.

He wasn't sure what made him grab her hand then, but the urge was there and soft skin was like ice against his palms. She looked up at him for only a moment, nodding as she too knelt next to Lord Umber. She too shouted the words of the great man next to her, looking up into the eyes of her Young Wolf.

The King in the North, as Lord Umber had declared him on one large bended knee.

Robb looked more surprised than anyone as he stared down at the man who was calling him King. One by one men fell, pulling their swords from their sheaths and laying them in the snow. Broden too pulled his sword, placing it before him and Fallon looked at him with a small smile and a nod as he crouched down on one knee.

He didn't have to look to know the other Skagosi men would follow suit. But he was most surprised to see that when he turned his head Lord Crowl was at his side, his eyes full of respect as he nodded, whispering the words as well. Lord Crowl had once said he'd never bow to anyone but the Magnar. Broden too had made a promise like that in his youth. But this man before them, Robb Stark was a friend with a cause as right as theirs.

Perhaps the Skagosi would never have a Magnar, but they would have a King in the North.

And for him, that was worlds better than the Lannister bastard sitting his little arse on the Iron Throne.

He looked at his sister and he wondered if things in his life might have been different if she had not been there. Her hair flew wildly about her, as dark as the night sky above them and it was the first time he saw her as a woman. Gone was his young sister who used to tease him, laugh at his sour expressions. Born was this woman before him who fought for justice, sacrificed for love. No matter her heritage, Fallon was a Magnar and Broden could finally see why his father had loved her so dearly. He had kept this secret from her so she would never doubt that she belonged.

Broden had made a selfish choice when he'd met at Robb Stark's camp weeks ago. He could not tell her who had fathered her and he would not for fear that she would never speak to him again. Broden had devised a plan to keep her from marrying the Frey. The gods may never forgive him for what he planned to do, but if it meant keeping Fallon from this fate, then he would condemn his soul.

Broden had never met a woman he would die for. He'd never loved so heartily that he would sacrifice himself as Fallon had for Robb. Back home Dearg Crowl had a daughter who would, one day, be Broden's wife. She would do well enough, he thought, but never had he felt the type of passion he saw in Fallon's eyes in this moment. She would die for the Stark.

The only woman Broden would die for, was Fallon.

* * *

**[Fallon]**

Fallon had never felt more uncomfortable in a dress than she did that night.

It was a night for celebration, to honor their newly crowned king but everything felt wrong. She wore beautiful gown of deep blue and silver thread. The expensive fabrics were well fitted to her small frame. It was a gift from Aenys's sisters. The dress fashioned in the fashion of the Riverlands. It was fitting attire for the coronation of the King of the North and the Trident. She would have preferred something more Northern.

But Aenys had insisted.

The dress sparkled in the brightly lit room, the silver-colored thread reflected the light as if there was ice sewn into delicate little swirls upon the deep blue fabric. Aenys had it sent with a maid from the Twins, Cyrenna, who had a pretty face with a sugary sweet expression. The two had argued for nearly an hour about how Fallon was to wear her hair for the feast. Cyrenna repeatedly told her she would do her hair in a fashion that Lord Aenys would admire, but Fallon quickly told the girl that she would do in the Northern style or she would do it herself. Fallon knew the girl was another way for him to spy on her, to make sure she was behaving as she ought to as a woman betrothed.

But Fallon would not be coerced by the man. She had made that very clear.

So now she sat, fidgeting uncomfortably as Broden and Rowan sat on either side of her. She had barely looked at Aedan who continued to send her looks that varied between ones of longing and ones of anger. Her attention was focused on the High Table where the King was seated next to his mother on his left and his uncle on his right. Hoster Tully was a sickly man in his elder years and though he was still Lord of Riverrun, he was bedridden from his illness. His son Edmure took his place at the table.

Robb, however, was in no mood to celebrate. It had only been a few weeks since his father's death but the lords had advised him that a change in scenery would be good for the men. Riverrun had a large hall and the men were in high spirits with their wine goblets constantly filled. The lords and their men had many pretty women to dance with from the local village and the food was hot on their plates. Lord Umber sat across from her, staring at her whilst finishing his third leg of pheasant.

"This, girl," he said, holding out the bone that was mostly devoured, some covering his beard. "This is how a woman ought to cook."

"Perhaps you should stay at Riverrun then," she suggested with a playful smirk. "I'll keep your flank well looked after." The great brute laughed as he pounded back the horn of ale to wash the meat down, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and Fallon laughed then as well.

"Oi, Bolton!" the Greatjon shouted. Fallon's smile slowly faded as Roose Bolton stopped in his path as he was walking by the table and looked down with a bored raise of his eyebrow. "You off to grab one of those gals to dance with, or do you even dance up at that dreary Dreadfort of yours?" he asked with great booming laughter.

"If you're asking me to dance, Umber, I unfortunately must decline," was the man's attempt at a joke. No one laughed. "I am tasked with finding a lovely lady for His Grace to dance with."

Fallon suddenly felt tense as Lord Bolton looked down at her with a sneer. She looked away, pretending to find interest in the potatoes on her plate but she could still feel his eyes on her.

"Lord Frey has graciously sent along several of his daughters to show off to our newly crowned king. I see one that might catch His Grace's eye," he said before sauntering off towards where Fallon had seen the table of Frey's sitting not far from her place.

"He'll have a right hard time trying to find a 'lovely' one'a them Frey girls," the Greatjon mumbled through a bite of bread and the table snickered in agreement.

The Late Walder Frey had sent seven of his younger daughters for Robb's coronation, seven that were more suitable to Robb's age than the elders who had already looked sunken and wrinkled. The girls were dressed in the same variations of blue as Fallon. Their dresses of fine fabrics and silks that exposed their full bosoms and slim figures. She could see the girl Lord Bolton spoke of, a young girl that had pale features and a frame even smaller than that of Fallon's. The girl was taller however and had a fine face with a pretty smile as long as her lips were shut tight. Fallon decided if he must marry one of Frey's unfortunate daughters, she was certainly the gem of the lot.

"Jon," the Greatjon said then, nudging his son who seemed rather preoccupied with his wine goblet. He looked up at his father expectantly. "Would you get outta that cup'a yours and take this gal out there to dance already?" he said, gesturing towards Fallon, but the Smalljon simply shrugged.

"I ain't much for dancin' Lady Fallon. I'll probably just end up steppin' on yer toes," he said apologetically, gaining a scowl from his father.

"My Cley will dance with you, Lass," Lord Cerwyn interjected and Fallon looked up to see Cley being pushed off the side of the bench until he was forced to stand. He laughed as he walked over towards her and offered her his hand with a wide grin on his handsome features. Fallon was reluctant at first, but after a eager nod from the boy's father, she couldn't say no.

"Careful where you place your hands, boy," the Greatjon said, his voice slurring from the excess of ale. "That's the King's gal you're holdin'. Remember that."

Fallon felt the heat rush to her cheeks then, finding the rather loud statement to be a dangerous thing to say in a hall full of Frey supporters. She glanced over towards the table where Aenys was sitting only to find him, too, in a drunken stupor with a whore on his lap. The Greatjon was loud, but the hall was louder so it seemed.

Cley was a fantastic dancer, she discovered after several songs. He kept his hands in only the appropriate places and when he lifted her into the air with his hands under her arms, he was very careful to keep his fingers from grazing her breasts as any other young male usually would. As far as she could tell, Cley Cerwyn was a gentlemen.

"You are well-versed in your steps, My Lord," she said politely and he smiled down at her.

"My father saw after my swordsmanship, and my mother to my dancing," he said, his sideways grin exposing his slightly crooked teeth. "She said I'd never find a wife if I couldn't win her on the dancefloor."

"Well I think you'll find that there are several ladies waiting for a turn to dance with you," she whispered, leaning in and he looked up, surprised. "I think you'd better pick one before the daggers in their jealous eyes wound me."

"And leave you without a partner?" he asked and she laughed quietly.

"I will see that she is occupied," a voice said from behind her and she saw Rowan standing with his hand outstretched towards her. Cley took her opposite hand in his and brought it to his lips then.

"My Lady," he said, bowing his head before releasing her into Rowan's arms. She watched as he approached a very young and fresh looking girl she recognized as a daughter of Lord Piper. She then turned to Rowan with a relaxed smile.

"Since when do you dance, dear brother?" she asked as the previous song finished and a new one began. She recognized the Northern tune as one of her favorite upbeat songs and took the opportunity to humiliate her brother with her advanced skills.

"Since my sister was in need of her spirits being lifted," he said as if it were obvious and he spun her twice and then the steps began, slow at first and then sped up as the song did.

Rowan had never liked dancing, but he had always been good at it when it counted. She often wondered if it had been Enat who had taught him the steps that he so easily remembered, knowing the two had been very close back in Skagos. Rowan had always had an easy way with women, just as Enat did with men. But neither had been particularly interested in pursuing anything further with their relationship. Purely physical, Enat had told her once and Fallon had shrugged her shoulders. It was no business of hers.

"Do not worry about the Great-Brute's comment earlier," he said in her ear and she looked up at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked as he lifted her in the air. Her hair fell in his face once and she laughed as he pulled it from his mouth.

"The men know Robb favors you, but no one yet knows you share his bed," he said once he'd pulled the last of her hair from his lips. Her eyes widened.

"What!?" she said, her voice loud at first and he shushed her so she lowered it. "What?"

"Don't act as though you are some innocent maiden," he said, amused at the blush on her cheek. "Don't worry, I've been seeing to it that no one has noticed. You've done well at hiding it. Took me long enough to realize you weren't sleeping in your own bed every night. Most of the men think our young King simply has a love of whores in his bed each night."

"Perhaps this is not the time to discuss this?" she said, looking around to see if anyone was listening but they were all preoccupied.

"Would you rather talk about that pretty young thing your Young Wolf has got his arms wrapped around right now?" he asked and she went to look, jerking her head frantically but Rowan stayed it with his hand. "Try your hand at some subtlety," he suggested, spinning them both so she would have a view of where Robb was now standing, not far from them with Roslyn Frey's hand in his.

She had never seen Robb dance with another woman and she could tell by the sharp feeling in her stomach that she didn't care for it too much. However she knew he was keeping his facade up just as she would. His eyes were tired and his movements weary but he still looked graceful as he danced with her and that was enough to make a small smile appear in the corner of her mouth.

"Bolton's been parading that one in front of His Grace for some time, is that one of them Frey girls?" Rowan asked and she simply nodded, keeping her eyes glued to Robb as he danced.

"Her name is Roslyn," she whispered.

"She's fair enough," Rowan said as if inspecting a mare to purchase. She looked up at him with a raised brow. "What? You're the one that suggested he marry the girl."

"A girl," she corrected. "Robb can have his pick of whichever he see's fit. Of course if he wants beauty, then she's surely the best pick."

"Quite small though, isn't she?"

"What's wrong with being small?" she asked him, and he laughed, lifting her up by her hips and spinning her once in the air.

"Nothing is wrong with it," Rowan corrected and she smiled. "But those hips of hers aren't ripe for bearing your king any sons."

"Do you enjoy being a pain in the arse?" she asked him, swatting his shoulder for saying 'your king' and his smile widened.

"Just a pain in yours," he replied and Fallon stepped away from him, curtseying as the song ended.

The celebration lasted long into the night and the Greatjon saw that her glass was never empty. As the hall began to clear out she was told by Cyrenna that it was a good time for her to retire to bed. She had laughed the girl away, sending her off to take care of someone else so Fallon could drink herself into a stupor.

Cyrenna had stormed off with a sour expression and Fallon was sure she'd seen her walk straight over towards Aenys who looked up, his eyes narrowing at Fallon's disobedience. She felt she had won the argument when she turned away, nearly running into a small figure as she did so and she steadied herself to see that it was young Roslyn Frey.

She was young, and only slightly smaller than Fallon. The small gap in between her two front teeth was exposed as the girl beamed up at her.

"Lady Fallon," she said excitedly, taking Fallon's hands in hers. "I have been waiting to talk with you all evening."

Fallon was having difficulty focusing on Roslyn, but she did her best to keep her eyes from drooping as she gave her the best smile she could muster. It was the first time that she noticed the girl was wearing a dress that was the color of steel with very fine designs embroidered into the fabric. Along the bodice were silhouettes of a graceful looking wolf and Fallon could tell the girl had done her very best appeal to Robb.

"That dress," Roslyn gasped, running her fingers over the fabric. "I just knew it would look exquisite on you. You have such lovely features. I never knew Skagosi women were so lovely."

It was a common myth that Skagosi women were hideous. It was their fierce reputation that made Westerosian believe the woman were uglier than their men. Eustace Hunter had been very pleasantly surprised to find that his bride, Albertha, was such an exquisite beauty. Elsbeth too had the Magnar looks, very much similar in features to her father's sister. Fallon, however knew that while she was not ugly, she was not as lovely as the Skagosi women were.

Of course, she wasn't really a Skagosi woman, she recalled. Her father would have killed any man from their land that laid a hand on her mother. This meant Fallon's trueborn father would have been someone from Westeros.

"You're too kind, My Lady," she replied and the girl continued to grin from ear to ear. The pinkness in the girl's cheeks made her wonder if she too had indulged in too much of the wine.

"My sisters and I were so very excited to see this dress on you. My brother, also, was thrilled to see how you looked in our colors."

"I'm sure Lord Stark was very fond of your gown as well," Fallon said then, doing her best not to sound as bitter as the wine was making her thoughts. The girl blushed then looking over her shoulder and Fallon could see Robb watching them from the High Table with interest.

"Oh yes," Roslyn said happily, with all the excitement of a 14 year-old maiden. "He said he liked the pattern very much. I had so hoped that he would." Fallon was getting ready to speak but Roslyn didn't seem to be quite finished as she smiled, dreamily. "He is a very fine man, isn't he? My sisters said you came to the Twins with his mother. Do you know him very well?"

Fallon considered this for a moment, wondering how to answer such a question.

"I was Lord Eddard Stark's ward at Winterfell for nearly a year. All of the Starks are like family to me," she admitted truthfully. "Robb was always very kind to me. We are good friends."

"Yes, I can see that. He is quite the gentleman," Roslyn said longingly. Fallon looked up once again over the girl's shoulder and her eyes met with Robb's. He was standing now, and her eyes followed him as he left the hall, saying goodnight to a few of his men before walking off towards the outer keep. Roslyn was still talking, but Fallon couldn't hear her over her own beating heart that was running wild as Robb looked over his shoulder at her once more before leaving the hall.

"Oh my," Fallon said, perhaps a little too dramatically as she tried to steady herself. "My head is spinning, or perhaps it is the room. I think I should lie down."

"Oh, yes," Roslyn said, a look of concern washing over her face. "Should I help you to your room, or fetch your brother?"

"No," Fallon said quickly. "I wouldn't want to rush anyone away from the festivities. Thank you for your company, Lady Roslyn," she said and Roslyn leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"It was my pleasure," she said, her brown eyes sparkling as she stepped back and walked back towards where her sisters were sitting.

Fallon looked around once to see if anyone was watching but she couldn't make out all the faces and just gave up and spun around in the direction she'd seen Robb leave. Her pace was quick down the stone corridors and she felt the air grow cooler and cooler on her shoulders which were mostly exposed in her Frey gown.

The outer keep led outside, and she knew Robb would have walked towards the godswood. She had found it to be the most peaceful place in the Riverlands. The single weirwood in the heart of the lovely garden provided her the peace and solace to pray for the first time since she'd left Winterfell. As far as she knew, it was the only weirwood still standing in the Riverlands.

It was secluded enough that Fallon didn't see Robb until she had rounded the corners of many hedges. His figure finally appeared, knelt beneath the slender tree as he looked up at it in wonder. She slowed her unbalanced footsteps as she waited for him, not wanting to disturb whatever thoughts he had on his mind. But it was clear by the way he moved his head in her direction that he had heard her steps, that he had expected her to come.

He rose quickly, looking at her bare arms and pulling his cloak from his shoulders. He placed it over hers, lifting her hair so it was resting over the fur lining. He pulled his fingers gently through her hair and a small smile appeared on his lips.

"You're going to freeze out here," he whispered, his breath appearing before her and she shrugged.

"It's this awful dress," she said, pulling at the fabric carefully. He touched the dress and ran his fingers over the silver thread.

"It's a fine dress," he said absently.

"For a Frey perhaps," she said leaning in towards him slightly, feeling herself beginning to sway from the ale. She couldn't touch him the way she wanted to right then, not here, not out in the open where at any moment one of his guards, or worse - a Frey, could walk by. "You should retire to bed," she suggested. "You have not been sleeping."

"Only if you'll join me," he said, touching her hand, concealed by the cover of his cloak over her.

"Aenys has put Cyrenna in my rooms tonight. He says it is to keep my company but I know it is to make sure I do not leave," she said with a frown. "Perhaps you will rest better if I am not there to distract you."

"I welcome the distraction," he told her.

There was a thin layer of bitterness in his words. Robb was almost absent these past few weeks, his mind solely on the task of war and which battles would be next. Always their time spent together was quiet and contemplative. Several times she had woken up next to him the darkest part of the night to feel him holding her tightly as if she might disappear at any moment. Once she had even heard him crying but she hadn't dared mention it to him.

She wanted to comfort him, but Fallon never knew what was right. She ached because he ached, cried because he cried. All of her soul felt crushed when she saw the pain in his perfect blue eyes, now tainted with the redness of sorrow.

"Come to my bed tonight," he whispered. "I will see that your maid has other things to tend to. You have spoiled me too much and now I fear I cannot sleep without you by my side."

She knew she also would not sleep well unless the heat of his flesh was against hers. The nights they spent apart Fallon would stare up at the ceiling anxiously, awaiting the dawn so that she might be near him once again. They had been careful not to spend their time together, both agreeing that the watchful glances of the men had already picked up on more than they should have. But very few knew of the extent of their relationship. Rowan had assured her of that.

"It will be easier once we leave this place," she told him, squeezing his hand in hers and then glanced up into his searching eyes.

"Fallon," he said and she frowned at the discomfort in his voice.

"What is it?" she asked, watching as his gaze looked away reluctantly.

"I need you to do something for me," he said slowly. "Something I have no right to ask of you."

"Anything," she said, feeling the concern rising, deep in the pit of her stomach.

"I need someone to treat with Renly Baratheon," he said and her eyebrow rose in curiosity. "You and my mother did well with the Frey's-" At this she let out a bitter chuckle.

"I got us both betrothed, and not to each other. Arya will hate me as well. Though you'll have that beauty Roslyn for your bed before long-" she started and he silenced her with a kiss on her lips.

"You, Mo Gra, have nothing to worry over. In fact, I'd say she's more infatuated with you, judging by the looks she was giving you."

"Do not worry, Your Grace," Fallon said with a laugh. "I can assure you it is you she has her sights set on."

"Do not call me that," he whispered against her lips and she sighed, once again, into his kiss.

"It is," she paused as his mouth moved over hers, speaking only when she had a moment for air. "What I must call you," she told him.

"Not you-"

"Especially me," she said firmly. "You are my king as well."

"Will you please go with my mother, travel to the Stormlands?" he asked her and she took in a deep breath as she looked away. "Consider that you've never been so far south, that it's your chance for adventure."

"I have plenty of adventures here," she told him and he laughed.

"I fear too many. Lords Umber and Cerwyn might try to kidnap you from the Freys soon, bring you back to the North and wed you to one of their sons."

"They'll have a fine time trying," she replied with a smirk. For many moments they did not speak and she could see he waited for her answer. "How am I to convince a man like Renly to fight for our cause?" she asked him.

"I've heard Renly is much more reasonable than his brothers," Robb replied. "He will help us if it means more men against his brother. Once the war is over we go back to our own dominions."

"And you think he will recognize the North as it's own kingdom? And the Trident?"

"That will be your job, love," he explained. "I need you to convince him."

"And what of all those sleepless nights you will encounter?" she whispered, her mouth against his ear and she felt his hand on her waist tighten.

"I will focus my efforts on winning this war so I can take you home," he whispered and Fallon didn't want to ruin the moment by asking which home he referred to. They hadn't spoken about her returning to Skagos since she'd arrived. Neither thought it best.

She wanted to do this for Robb, but she was scared to leave his side at this time. He was still suffering from the news of his father. Sending her away would leave him utterly alone. Robb didn't discuss his family with any of his men and likewise his men knew better than to broach the subject in his presence. His mother's grief wasn't helping. Perhaps taking her to the Stormlands would be better for the both of them.

"I'll go," she told him, a smile on her lips. "I'll do what I can with Renly."

He embraced her then and Fallon felt warm against him for the first time since she stepped out into the cold. She could tell by the way he held her that he had no intentions of letting her sleep alone tonight. He would want her to leave in the morning.

That meant they would spend the rest of the night saying their goodbyes.

* * *

**[Robb]**

Robb had seen the sun rise and set since Fallon rode off in the early hours towards the Stormlands. He had felt a pain in his chest as he watched her ride off, Fiachra yipping excitedly as they rode at a quick pace that she loved. The horse loved to run just as much as Fallon love to ride. Now both of them were free.

Sleep had finally found him in the wee hours of the morning, not long after he had finished making love to her for the second time, holding her bare skin against hers under the furs of his bed. Her skin was hot against his, her whispers comforting and soft against his ear. It was a combination of both that lulled his tired mind into sleep that seemed to end too soon by the sound of her stirring.

She had packed light, telling him it would a short journey, that she would return to him as soon as she convinced Renly to help. Even now as the sun set and he prepared for his army to ride out the next morning, he felt uneasy without her there. His mother, too, was gone, riding off alongside Fallon. Theon had rode out as well, a few hours after sunrise in the opposite direction. He'd be first to reach his destination and hopefully soon he'd have the support of Balon Greyjoy on his side.

He would grant the old man his kingship for his support. It was a longshot, that he knew. Balon was a hard man, full of pride. He'd be surprised if he'd even let Theon get a word out before he sent him back to the mainland. But Robb had other ideas of support he could use. He'd been thinking of it for weeks now, every time he looked at Fallon or Rowan, thinking of their home. The Skagosi warriors were some of his most loyal supporters. They trusted him more than he could have hoped for and because of them, the morale in the camps was high.

Robb wanted to reward that, reward Broden for his support. And he knew there was only one way he could show his utmost gratitude.

Robb was nearly done packing when he heard a commotion outside his door, the guards that were stationed nearby were arguing with someone whose voice was muffled by the thick wood door that separated them. He paused his movements and listened as the voices rose into shouts. Soon after Broden came marching through the door, looking panicked as he rushed towards him. The guards followed by Robb held up his hand to stay them, allowing Broden to approach.

"Stark!" he said quickly, his voice loud. "Where is she? Where have you sent her?"

"Broden," Robb said, trying to calm him by placing a hand on his shoulder but it was shaken off. Robb then saw Rowan running in after his brother.

"Where?!" Broden shouted again.

"She's left this morning, with my mother. I needed her to negotiate for support," he explained and as Rowan tried to hold Broden back, he too was shoved away.

Broden, the man who was nearly always composed, was now frantic. He had never seen him like this. Countless times Fallon had fought now in the war and never once had her brother looked as concerned as he did now. Something was wrong.

"Where is she to negotiate? With whom?" Broden said then, as he tried to calm his voice and Robb furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Renly," Robb said. "Baratheon." At that Broden closed his eyes as if he had been struck and he groaned in anger. "I do not understand," Robb said. "I told you I needed her for negotiations. You agreed she was best for the task."

"But I did not agree that you should send her to treat with Renly Baratheon!" Broden shouted. "You do not know what you have done!"

"Broden!" Rowan was shouting now as his brother paced.

"No!" he shouted back. "Do not touch me, I-" he started and paused, catching his breath. "I have to go after her. She cannot meet with him."

He turned to leave but both Robb and Rowan stepped in front of the larger man and stayed his retreat. Broden tried to get around them but both Robb and Rowan wrestled him until he was on the ground.

"You will not leave until you tell us what is wrong," Robb whispered, again deterring his guards from interfering.

Broden was panting now from his spent energy, the struggle leaving him slightly out of breath as both Rowan and Robb held him down. He sighed, his eyes still burning angrily, much like Fallon's did.

"I tried to warn you, that she was safe only here where I could protect her," Broden said, his voice lowered.

"Baratheon won't hurt her, he's much too busy spending his money and hosting tourneys in his honor," Rowan said and Robb nodded.

"My mother knows Renly," Robb added. "He is a reasonable man. He has no reason to harm her or Fallon."

Broden pushed them off of him, sitting up with his hands on his knees as his breaths finally steadied. But still he was shaking his head. Robb trusted Broden, but he could see that the man was keeping secrets from him. He didn't like secrets, especially ones that could put Fallon in danger.

"Tell us what's going on," Rowan demanded. Broden looked up at him. "You've been hiding something from us, something Father told you and Aedan about Fallon." Broden diverted his eyes from his brother's at this. "She's a bastard, isn't she?" Rowan then asked, the question sounded painful as it left his lips. As Robb expected, Broden nodded.

"What else?" Robb said then, the confirmation of Fallon's heritage weighing heavily upon him. "What else aren't you telling us? Why is she in danger?"

Broden paused for a long time before he seemed like he would answer. There was worry in his eyes at the mention of his sister, of the danger she was in and Robb noticed it all as if the thoughts were being played right through Broden's eyes.

"She is in danger because you sent her to the Stormlands," Broden said finally as he stood, adjusting his tunic. "Once Baratheon finds out who she is, he won't let her return."

"Why not?" Robb asked. "Because he knows who her father is?"

Broden sighed.

"Because...Fallon is the firstborn bastard daughter of King Robert Baratheon."

* * *

A/N: I know an apology is in order for this getting out so late. Sorry I've just had so much on my mind with this story and two others I'm working on. I hate when good ideas take over my mind when I'm working on other things. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was a little short but I had a few points I wanted to focus on and hopefully I hit them well. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks, xo Lola


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